There and Back Again - Unedited
by ElyssaCousland
Summary: This is the compilation of chapters with descriptive smut for my story There and Back Again - I'm leaving the original without NSFW scenes. Don't read this unless you've read the rest of There and Back Again! Rated M. Entirely NSFW. AlistairxOC
1. Chapter 44: The Night Before

**This is the full version of the chapters from my story There and Back Again with the naughty bits. I've left that version without graphic sex for those who'd prefer to avoid it, and posted the descriptive sex version here instead.**

**I recently discovered there's a problem with the version of this chapter I originally posted, so here's the fixed version:**

**Chapter Forty-Four: The Night Before**

Lying side-by-side on the bed, he smiled. "You do look amazing in my shirt."

"It was the only clean one you had."

"It's perfect. You're perfect."

He stayed there, looking awkward for a moment, smiling at me but clearly nervous. I reached up to stroke his cheek.

"Hey. You're overthinking things. Just relax, okay? It's going to be okay."

He leaned into my hand, his eyes closing momentarily. "I just don't want to do something wrong."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"I could hurt you. Or embarrass myself."

"You won't hurt me. And seriously, with all the embarrassing things I do on a daily basis, it's really only fair if you do something at least mildly silly."

He grinned at me, a flash of the more confident Alistair that I'd been getting used to breaking through. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, softly at first, his hand stroking my hair. He brushed my ear, making me shiver, and then my neck, which elicited a gasp. The kiss rapidly deepened, and then his tongue sought entry, stroking alongside my own. His hand splayed across my stomach over the tunic, and he rubbed softly, just shy of tickling. His other hand wiggled underneath my head, grasping a handful of my hair and tilting my head back. We kissed for an eternity, wrapped up in each other, mostly even oblivious to our states of undress. My hand was on his chest, enjoying the feeling of his firm muscles underneath the smooth skin.

Anxious, and feeling like perhaps Alistair was procrastinating just a little bit out of fear, I finally grabbed the hand that was stroking my hip and stomach and impatiently pulled it upward. Not fighting me, but not taking any initiative either, I had to cajole it all the way up until he cupped my small breast with his hand. My own hand stilled on his chest as I was distracted by the sensation.

I moaned softly as his fingers curled around the mound of flesh, and his thumb stroked over my nipple; it crinkled and tried to gouge a hole in the palm of his hand, and his breath hitched, pulling him out of the passionate kiss. He moaned my name, sending a wave of heat down to my centre, and I squirmed, pressing against his hand and biting my lip to stifle my own feral sounds. He'd touched my breast before, it wasn't a first for either of us, but there had never before been so little in between his skin and mine. He teased lightly across my nipple again, and I gasped and arched my back, pressing harder against his hand. He switched breasts and repeated his actions, drawing an approving sigh.

My head turned to the side, pressing my forehead against his shoulder as I tried to relax and just let it happen; he took the opportunity to press a kiss to my jawline, and I shivered. Emboldened, he did it again, then sucked softly and fluttered his tongue against the skin. My voice cracked as I moaned and I turned my head further, exposing my neck and more of my jaw to his swollen lips. He obliged, shifting a little further towards my ear and repeating the process.

Each time he did it dragged a response from me, either a shiver, moan, or gasp, and he moved closer and closer to my ear. Finally reaching it, he gave my earlobe an experimental lick before leaning in further to kiss the sensitive area just behind it. I whimpered, and could feel his grin and hear his chuckle as he did it again.

"You like that?" He punctuated each word with a kiss or lick, and a caress. My nipples could have carved glass.

"Um. Yeah. What was your first clue?" Sarcasm was the only defense I could come up with; there were unshed tears threatening in my eyes, and my only alternative was to start crying and beg.

It felt like punishment for being flip when he left my ear alone, but when he attacked the corded muscle in my neck with his lips and teeth instead, I cried out, belatedly stuffing my fist in my mouth to muffle the noise. I could feel wetness dripping down to dampen the back of his tunic under me, and I writhed purposelessly under the combined assault on my breasts and neck. His stubble tickled my skin, and everywhere he touched felt like he'd set me on fire. He bit my neck sharply, just above where my armour would sit, marking me, I was sure.

_How is he even doing this? I thought __**he**__ was the virgin._ I gasped and shuddered as his hungry mouth reached the fold where neck met shoulder, and couldn't take it anymore; I reached up to grab a handful of his hair, pulling hard enough to get his attention, dragging his lips away from my inflamed skin and up to meet my own in a desperate, violent kiss. His tongue plundered my mouth and I sucked on it hungrily, still marveling at his skill. If he was just a shade more assertive with his hands, anyone would have thought he was as experienced as Zevran.

Thinking about his hands on me triggered a sudden, insane need to feel them on my bare skin; I couldn't wait any longer. I laced my fingers through his, then dragged his hand, unresisting, down to brush against my leg below the tunic. We both gasped as he made contact; the heat of him felt like it would melt me. He pulled out of the kiss abruptly to stare, enthralled, at where his hand lay still on my thigh. I held my breath, letting it out explosively as he gently, softly stroked my skin.

He groaned. "You're so smooth. How do you make your skin so soft?"

I struggled to think; my head was foggy with lust, until I figured out what he was asking. "Laser hair removal. I got rid of all the hair not on my head."

His raised his eyebrows. I shook my head, too aroused to have the discussion. "I'll explain later."

He nodded, and went back to tracing patterns with his fingertips. I watched his face, his jaw tense, his eyes dilated and a little bit wild, and was suddenly worried he was on the edge of a panic attack. Hoping to forestall it, I released his hand, which kept caressing my leg with whisper-light touches, and reached up to cup his face with both of my hands. We locked gazes, and I held him there until the wildness faded a little from his expression. When he kissed me, my Alistair was back.

I realised that so far, our interaction had been very one-sided. I had laid and wriggled while he played with my body; I wanted to return the favour. I pushed playfully on his chest, and surprised, he fell back, losing contact with my thigh. I rolled towards him, pulling my knees up under myself to raise me up so I could look down on my handsome templar.

"My turn," I whispered, and his eyes darkened.

He nodded once, and I leaned across him to press my lips down on his, my hands on the bed on either side of his head, supporting me as I kissed him almost lazily. And then it was my turn to drive him crazy with teasing licks and kisses along his jaw, my hair dragging along his collarbone making him hiss. He reached up at one point to try to guide me, but I slapped his hands away playfully and punctuated it with a bite on the tense muscle in his neck. He groaned but subsided and let me continue to play.

As I sucked on his neck, I began running my hands down the hard planes of his chest. I'd seen him shirtless before, even cuddled against his bare chest for a few minutes, but this was different. I was allowed to touch to my heart's content, and I could have stayed there for days. His muscles shivered underneath the skin as my hands passed over, and I explored every ridge and valley methodically. He had a number of small scars that I could feel, and I traced them gently, reverently.

He gasped as my hand brushed the waistband of his smallclothes, and I leaned back and grinned wickedly. I deliberately examined him from head to toe, not avoiding the obvious bulge tenting up his smallclothes, and he flushed, a combination of arousal and embarrassment, I guessed. I stroked the skin of his belly just beside his smalls, then proceeded to follow the lines of his hips with my hands, down over the fabric. It was his turn to stifle a groan with his hand. There was a damp spot forming, and I smiled, pleased with my work.

In my previous experience, I'd never really had the chance to explore – in fact, before Alistair, I hadn't even been fondled. My first time, we were in a hurry, hidden in a rarely-used storage room at our school; I laid back on a dusty table while he lined himself up and pressed in. I was wet, both from anticipation and nervousness. There was a brief pain, followed by a vaguely warm feeling that seemed to be growing until it was suddenly cut off when he came, quickly pulling out and helping me to my feet as we tidied ourselves up and snuck back out. I never really even saw his penis, never mind touched it.

I had no intention of letting the opportunity pass me by this time. "Off," I demanded, blushing furiously as I grabbed the waistband of his smalls, tugging insistently.

"Wait. What?" Alistair grabbed my hands, stopping me. His face, I assumed, was a perfect match for the colour of mine. "But it's not fair," he whined.

I stopped, still kneeling beside him, and bit my lip for a brief minute. _I'm the more experienced. I can do this._ I raised my hands out to the side, like I had earlier. I waited until he met my gaze.

"Would you like to do the honours, then?"

His mouth fell open a little, and his eyebrows tried to climb right up into his hairline. He scrambled up to his own knees, facing me, with the tips of our knees not quite touching.

"You want me to…are you certain?" He searched my face, and I smiled as he suppressed his obvious arousal to worry about me.

I nodded impatiently. "I've never been more certain of anything." _I'm done with waiting for this._

He reached down hesitantly to grasp the hem of the long tunic, brushing my knee lightly, making me squirm. With one last questioning look, he lifted and I raised my arms further, turning the tunic inside-out as he pulled it over my head. My hair tumbled down around my face as it pulled through the opening, and it took me a moment to brush it out of my eyes. Vision unimpeded again, I glanced up to see Alistair staring at me, naked appreciation written all over his strong features. He still held the tunic in his hands, and his gaze roamed over my body like mine had done to his earlier.

I giggled as I took the tunic from his unresisting fingers and tossed it off the bed to land, unheeded, on the floor. When I looked again, his gaze had focused firmly back on my face, and his smile was achingly handsome. He reached out and cupped my face, tugging me up onto my knees to meet him, wrapping one arm around my back, pulling me against his chest firmly.

"Maker's breath, but you're beautiful."

I tried to reply, but he silenced me with a soft, perfect kiss. Without breaking contact, he lowered me down to lie on my back, and I felt him wiggle around as he shucked his smalls. When he joined me, he laid beside me carefully, raised on one elbow, pressed against my side. I could feel the hardness and heat of his erection against my thigh. I put one arm under his, wrapping behind him to stroke his strong smooth back. With a sudden blaze of unexpected confidence, he took my other hand, bringing it up above my head, patting it in place with a gesture that I could only interpret to mean 'stay'.

His hand stroked down my arm, skipping my ticklish armpit but ghosting his fingers across my sensitive collarbones and neck instead. He played there for an eternity as I moaned softly. I gasped into his mouth as he finally continued exploring south until he once again cupped one of my breasts, now without anything between us. My nipple, already erect from the previous activity and the slight chill of being exposed, hardened further as he rolled it gently between thumb and forefinger, pinching it deliciously at random intervals. He switched sides and did it again, with much the same response.

I moaned softly in disappointment as his kiss-swollen lips left mine, but when he brought them down over the pulse-point in my neck and sucked, hard, I forgave him. And then I was breathless in anticipation as he slowly, achingly slowly descended further to lave kisses and licks on the tops of my breasts. He paused there, teasing me, until I couldn't take it anymore. The hand he'd put above my head moved of its own accord, tangling into the rumpled sandy mess of hair on his head and dragging him to my aching nipple.

His tongue tentatively flickered out to graze the over-wrought nub at the same time that he flicked the opposite one with his fingers, and I writhed. He chuckled low in his throat, and the sound was sexy as hell. Applying himself more assertively to the task, he began to lick and then suck first one nipple followed by the other, and I lost my mind entirely as I floated in a sea of need and desire and lust. His stubble abraded my skin just lightly, and provided an interesting counterpoint to the sensations sending waves of desire to my core.

When his hand started creeping down my stomach, I realised that between panting and writhing I'd begun whispering prayers to Alistair, God, the Maker – anyone who would listen – begging for…something. I couldn't even have guessed what specifically I was pleading for, and all I could do was hope Alistair would soon figure it out.

When he allowed my tortured nipple to escape his mouth to be able to watch his hand, the intense look on his face made me crazy. I couldn't have imagined Alistair ever looking at me like that; _I couldn't have imagined anyone looking at me like that, before I arrived in Thedas_. I watched him as he watched his fingers creep towards my centre. First contact with my mons had me jumping, and he leaned in to capture my lips in a kiss, somehow soothing me. His fingers stroked my smooth skin, and when he pulled out of the all-too-brief kiss, he looked at me with an eyebrow raised.

I felt weirdly defensive; I was aware that shaving legs and armpits wasn't something women did, in Thedas, typically, and my own laser-induced baldness must have seemed strange, but somehow it embarrassed me to have attention drawn to it. I met his gaze only briefly, looking away and squirming uncomfortably.

"I told you." When he looked questioningly at me, I clarified. "_All _of the hair not on my head."

I looked away, face now pink not just with arousal, trying not to feel self-conscious. Alistair obviously knew me well; he abandoned his exploration to reach up and cup my cheek, turning me to face him.

"Sierra. Just because I'm surprised, doesn't mean I'm bothered." I risked a look up, and his serious, gorgeous hazel eyes locked me in place. "You're beautiful. And that…" he tilted his head, gesturing downwards, "…is sexy. Don't ever doubt that."

I'm sure the wattage of my smile could have melted stone. He kissed me again, sighing softly into my mouth as our tongues met, but pulled away as I grabbed his hand. More confidently, now, I tugged his hand away from my face and down, back to where he'd been before my little freak-out. He watched my face as his fingers softly touched again, and I pressed his hand harder against me.

"Please." I nodded, and he smiled before turning his attention back to where his hand lay. Slowly, carefully, he reached further until the very tip of one finger softly stroked over my lips. I spread my legs involuntarily, inviting him to explore further, and he licked his lips nervously before taking advantage. His finger slowly traced the cleft, and I gasped and he groaned when his finger slipped in the wetness he encountered and suddenly pressed in just a little.

I hadn't had an orgasm in months – since before that first, horrifying encounter with darkspawn in a random farmer's field – and it took every ounce of my willpower not to just grind against that finger, get it where I wanted it to go, and finally, gloriously get the release I'd been craving since the first time Alistair had kissed me. My experience with a partner was limited, but I knew from solo experimentation and extensive, furtive reading that I peaked easily.

Despite my attempt to hide my desperation, I still twitched slightly, and his finger sank in to my cleft further. I could almost feel the weight of his gaze on my face, but I couldn't see – my eyes sank closed and I tossed my head back, overcome by my first experience of foreplay. There weren't even similarities between how it felt when he touched me, and how it felt when I touched myself. The slight trembling in his hands transmitted vibrations to my sensitive folds, and his lips on my extended neck just ramped up my level of arousal even further.

He held his hand still, and my eyes finally opened, frustrated that he hadn't moved. His expression looked puzzled and slightly ill.

"Alistair?"

"I, uh...I don't know how to…Listen, will you show me?"

I bit my lip, torn between embarrassment and need. I nodded, and slid my hand from his wrist down over top of his calloused fingers. Pressing his pointer and middle finger slightly, I trailed them through my folds, picking up moisture. Once his fingertips were damp, I pressed harder and allowed him to explore me, from my small opening up to my erect, yearning clitoris. I teased myself with his hand, allowing him to see my reactions as he brushed against it or slipped one finger a few centimetres into my tight channel.

Unable to hold out any longer, I pressed and encouraged until he got the picture and slowly, cautiously sank one finger into me as far as it would go. I groaned; I'd never experimented with toys or anything else, and his fingers were much thicker than mine. I had to stretch to accommodate him, and I could feel my muscles contracting around the invader even as I welcomed it. After a few moments to adjust, I shifted my grip and pulled on his hand, then pushed it back in in small strokes. Getting the picture, he continued on his own, gradually increasing the depth of the stroke.

As he moved faster, his hand relaxed, and his thumb naturally fell into place on my clit. _At least I assume it was an accident – if not, he's a natural!_ The groan and my uncoordinated hip thrust must have gotten the point across, and he began circling the little bundle of nerves with each stroke. I wasn't going to last long, it was obvious, and while I had wanted my first orgasm with a partner to be during actual intercourse, I couldn't stop. It felt too good, and I was too desperate, and some small part of me whispered that, based on every book I'd ever read, I should expect the first time we actually had sex to be…unsatisfying, so I selfishly wanted some sort of relief first. Regardless of why, all I could do was writhe in my handsome templar's arms as he brought me closer and closer to the edge.

The last vestige of rational thought I had was that I'd need to be stretched a little more to accommodate him, and now was probably the best time for it. I managed to gasp "More, please more," and he complied, stopping his strokes to insert a second thick finger inside me. The extra stretch was both incredibly arousing and ever-so-slightly uncomfortable at the same time, and I rode that line higher. Returning to his previous strategy of deep, full strokes and circling my clit with his thumb, he soon had me right on the edge. As I started to crest the wave, I cried out his name and heard him groan mine. His voice, tight with intensity, low and gravelly with arousal, sent me over and I came, hard. I flooded his hand as I twitched and thrust at his fingers, ruining his rhythm as I spasmed, and suddenly felt scalding liquid on my right hip at the same time as I felt his teeth sink into my neck.

I shuddered through several aftershocks as Alistair continued to move inside me, until I finally had the presence of mind to clamp my legs together, trapping his hand and stilling it. I was completely stunned at what had happened; I'd never dreamed that my Chantry virgin of a boyfriend could have undone me so easily. I clung to him desperately, panting, waiting for my head to stop spinning and my muscles to stop twitching. His lips pressed kisses to the bruise he'd left on my neck with his teeth as he caught his own breath.

It took me a few moments to realise that he was trying to free the hand I had trapped with my thighs, and I released the tension. I shuddered again, violently, as his fingers slipped out of me, and he whispered apologies in my ear.

"Are you joking? You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I bruised you. And I think I hurt you, not that you'll ever admit it. And…I, uh, made a mess." I could feel the heat of his blush.

"Did you expect sex to be a particularly neat activity? Mess-free, as it were?"

"I guess I never thought about it."

"On Earth there's entire…uh…performances based on arguments over who would have to sleep in the wet spot. I'm fairly sure it's meant to be messy."

"What sort of performances are those?" His eyebrows rose up his forehead in what looked like horrified fascination.

"It's hard to explain. It's sort of like when we were talking about Zevran. Making jokes about sex makes people feel less alone and helpless, I think."

He shook his head. "You were raised in a culture of perverts. That's just wonderful. What did I get myself into?"

"Hey now, perverts they may be but it was you who just turned my entire spine to jelly."

"Which reminds me…"

He hopped off the bed, grabbing a washcloth off the washstand and dampening it slightly. I watched him with half-lidded eyes, his muscular body and bronze skin reflecting the candlelight slightly. I finally got my first actual look at a real-life, naked penis, and my mouth dropped open. Standing up proudly from a thatch of blond hair, he was still hard, and I certainly was no expert, but that thing looked enormous. I pried my eyes away as he climbed back onto the mattress, and noticed his face was beet red again – clearly he'd noticed where I was looking.

He proceeded to wash his mess off my hip, and I bit my lip. He remained somewhat mottled, and was clearly embarrassed about his orgasm. I debated briefly, but curiosity won in the end.

"So I'm a bit…confused."

He glanced at my face briefly. "Oh?"

"I sort of thought…that this only happened with, you know, some sort of direct stimulation."

His blush deepened. "Normally. But watching you, feeling you…Maker's breath, Sierra, I'm not made of stone."

I reached down to gently brush against his erect length with the back of my hand, tentatively, and it bobbed once. "Are you sure?"

He chuckled, and I flashed him an impish grin.

I stroked his cheek, and he leaned in to my hand. "I'm flattered. Or you're just sheltered. I'm not entirely clear which."

"Both, probably. Can we talk about something other than me humiliating myself?"

"Honey, hey. I'm not offended. In fact there's a warm feeling in an unmentionable place thinking about it."

He raised his eyebrows again, and I waggled mine back making him laugh again. He turned to kiss my palm, before turning his attention back to wiping off my hip. The gentle touch and cool damp of the washcloth raised goosebumps on my skin where he touched, and he seemed fascinated by the reaction, expanding in wider circles watching the little bumps form. After a few extra minutes, by which time the mess was long gone and it was obviously no longer about clean-up, he tossed the washcloth carelessly over his shoulder and just started stroking my skin, from my hip, over my belly, up my side to my shoulder, then down to softly cup a breast. He stifled a groan when my nipple crinkled.

"Sierra…"

I wondered if he had any idea what it did to me to hear him say my name in his killer British accent. I pulled him in for a kiss with one hand while with the other, I felt around until I reached his hard length. I wrapped my hand around him, and he groaned into my mouth. It felt like velvet covering steel, the contrast between the soft skin and the firmness interesting, and I explored gently for a few moments. His hand, still stroking my breast, was trembling, and I recognised signs that he was having trouble maintaining control. That suited me fine; control wasn't what I was looking for.

Deepening the kiss and releasing his erection, I shifted and poked and prodded until he was on top of me. Ever the gentleman, he kept his weight on his elbows – beside my head – and his knees, which were wedged between mine. I could feel his cock resting on my belly, and my nipples brushed slightly against his chest. The provocative position had me burning to be filled, to make love to the gorgeous man hovering over me. I explored his back, shoulders, and chest briefly with my hands as he continued the kiss, sweeping his tongue into my mouth to engage mine. His only reaction to my hands was some goosebumps of his own, and his tremor felt a bit more prominent. Knowing he was as anxious, as desperate as I, was a huge turn-on. _I want him, now._

I reached down between us to grasp his erection again. I tugged gently and he slid his knees down until he was more directly lined up for the next event. I swiped the tip through my now-sopping folds, and he pulled out of the kiss to hiss in pleasure at the heat and damp. I placed him against my opening and released him, awaiting the first thrust with some trepidation. When nothing happened, I glanced up to make eye contact with a very fearful-looking templar.

He bit his lip, and he looked so much like a scared little boy, but at the same time so incredibly sexy. I had to laugh, and he frowned. I shook off the laugh – _inappropriate timing, Sierra!_ – and wriggled underneath him. When he still hesitated, I finally found my voice, though I barely recognised it, low and husky with need.

"Please, Alistair." I gripped his ass, pulling him to me, though I knew I had no hope of moving him if he didn't cooperate. "Please." My knees pulled up beside his hips, my legs wrapping around so my heels brushed his thighs.

Watching my face with incredible intensity, I finally felt him move. He flexed, and the very tip of him entered me an inch. The delicious spreading of my wet channel had me groaning in pleasure, and he paused. I thrust my hips towards him, and he gasped as I gained another inch. I was momentarily surprised by a sharp flash of pain, which felt like…_Oh, good God, this body was a virgin._ I decided to think about it later, distracted as I was by other things. Fortunately, within a few seconds, the pain disappeared as though it had never happened.

He moved again, slowly claiming me. I'd never felt spread so far – I was now more than sure that my only previous experience had been much less well endowed – but instead of the pain I expected, there was only a mild stretching sensation, which wasn't unpleasant.

Encouraged by my expression, I felt his muscles tense as he pulled out a tiny amount and then pressed back in more firmly, claiming two more inches. I felt incredibly full, and I knew I was going to be much more so before we were done. Anticipation made me clench, teasing the length inside me. He groaned and thrust again, and then again as I urged him on with my legs.

My eyes were closed as I experienced the new sensations coursing through me, but they popped open as I felt Alistair take a handful of my hair and tug lightly.

"Keep your eyes on me, Love. I need to see you."

I nodded, though keeping them open seemed a major chore. Somehow, though, everything was much more intense as I watched his face while he slowly, gently stretched me. Every time he gained new ground my eyelids would flutter, and I would struggle to open them again. I kept trying, his hazel eyes drawing mine in every time, and he gasped softly every time our gazes met.

He finally bottomed out, and I grunted as he bumped against my cervix. He instinctively pulled back a fraction of an inch, relieving the discomfort, while his gaze searched my face.

"Okay?"

"Maker, yes, please." I shuddered, unable to hold still. _ I never dreamed this could feel this good, and we've barely started._ Only a tiny portion of my brain noted my Fereldan curse; the rest was too busy urging me to move, to beg, to do whatever it took to get him to take me hard and fast.

He growled, possessively, as he claimed my mouth in a heated kiss, and I finally let my eyes drift shut. He nibbled and sucked my lip, then his tongue swept through to stroke mine. His hands were in my hair, kneading and tugging, and all I could do was writhe and moan under him. After an eternity, he pulled back, locking gazes with mine again, and finally started to move.

When he withdrew, I whined in disappointment, only to cry out as he plunged back in to my stretched opening. Helpless, I could only grip his hips and cling with my legs as each thrust took me higher and higher. The angle must have been perfect, somehow, because he rubbed against my clit with each thrust, and my hips met his with abandon. His slow pace kept me from peaking, and the pleasure just built and built until I was writhing and shuddering under him, not quite there but so close.

He sped up, and finally howled out my name as he found his release; I was so close that his sexy voice, calling my name out, and his hard, irregular thrusting as he spent were enough to send me over as well. I bit his shoulder to stop myself from screaming or doing something else embarrassing, not hard enough to break the skin but definitely hard enough to bruise. He gasped and thrust into me again, hard, triggering a cascade of aftershocks ricocheting between us. When it finally settled, he collapsed down onto me, swooping down to kiss me with bruising force. My legs were still wrapped around his hips; I didn't have the energy to move them. Still buried inside me, I could feel him softening as I clung to him, tears I couldn't explain leaking from the corners of my eyes. His strong fingers slowly kneaded my scalp, and he lifted his head to make eye contact again.

When he spotted my tears, his response was immediate; he rolled off me, extricating himself from my leaden limbs and cradling me in his arms.

"Oh, Maker, I knew I was going to hurt you. Should I go get Wynne?"

I giggled, sniffling and wiping my tears. "You didn't hurt me. Honestly. And besides, what would we even say to Wynne? 'I fell down the stairs and hurt my-'"

He cut me off with a snort of amusement. "She'd never see through that excuse, certainly. But…are you sure I didn't hurt you?" I nodded and cuddled in closer to his side. "Then why, by Andraste's knickers, are you crying?"

"I vote we leave Andraste's knickers entirely out of our sex lives, okay?"

He snorted again. "Point taken."

"I'm crying because…I don't know. I'm just happy."

"Maker! Women are strange. I'll never understand you, will I?"

"Nope." I grinned. "Which is exactly how it was meant to be."


	2. Chapter 45: Confessions

**Chapter Forty-Five: Confessions**

"You know, according to all the sisters at the monastery, I should have been struck by lightning by now."

"Not for that performance."

"Meaning that it was so great that the Maker himself has decided to spare me from the usual punishment? Right?" He grinned, but the insecurity was as obvious in real life as it had been in game.

I slid up, draping myself across his chest and leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his swollen lips. "Yes, that's exactly what I meant."

"Does this mean I get to brag, tomorrow?"

"Well, I suppose as long as you don't mind my brother beating you senseless afterwards, sure. Go ahead."

"You are a bad, bad woman."

"I'm not the one wanting to brag about my conquest!"

"True. But I think you're actually hoping Aedan will beat me."

"Humility is good for the soul."

"Since when are you worried about a soul?" We both grinned. "I myself am far more worried about other less ethereal concerns."

"Such as?"

"Whether you'd permit us to do this again, if I promise not to discuss our love life with your brother?"

"Again?"

He nodded, somewhat red-faced.

"Now?" I looked down and gasped, my attention immediately drawn to the enormous, slightly purple erection pointed at me. "But…I thought men were supposed to need some recovery time?"

"Evidently not."

I muttered something about Grey Warden stamina, and he had the grace to look slightly abashed. I giggled and leaned down to kiss him again. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me to him tightly, and I let him shift me to lay directly on top of him. The bulge against my thigh gave me an idea, and I broke the kiss to sit up slightly, straddling his waist. When I leaned forward, my breast dangled just above him, and he pulled me closer to draw the small pebble that was my nipple into his mouth. I gasped, then pulled it back out with a small pop, presenting him with the opposite one for the same treatment. His gaze never left mine, and the vision of Alistair, suckling on my breast while gazing into my eyes was one I knew I'd not soon forget.

Suddenly impatient, I pulled away to lean back. Using my hands on his shoulders for leverage, I shifted until I felt his erection trapped between my sex and his belly, and then sat forward slowly until he slid into place at my opening. Pressing back again caused us both to groan, loudly; I was slightly sore, but the stretch was delicious and I kept up the steady pressure until I felt my ass meet his thighs. I gyrated my hips, enjoying the control I had in that position, and discovered that when I leaned forward, my clit got stimulated by his pubic bone, but when I leaned back, he pressed against a spot that felt really good. _Apparently G-spots do exist. Huh._

He reached up to cup my breasts while I alternated between leaning back and forward slightly, and I arched my back, pressing harder into his warm, calloused hands. Shifting my grip from his shoulders to his thighs, behind me, I leaned back and started lifting up and slowly sliding back down. I'd never really felt g-spot stimulation in my very limited experience, and while I missed the pressure on my clit, the sensation was interesting and new enough for me to throw my head back and just enjoy the ride. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to orgasm like that, until suddenly both conflicting needs were filled. My eyes shot open, and I realised that Alistair had released my breasts, and one hand was now bracing itself on my hip, while the other reached between us and teased my clit. His face wore a mask of concentration, I assumed as he tried to keep his own release at bay while he brought me to mine.

It took little time for me to reach my peak, between watching the incredibly sexy man under me try to please me, and the sensations coursing through me from my g-spot and my clit. I felt myself spasm, clenching him deep inside, and he hissed as he tried to maintain his composure. I reached down to still his hands, and instead he reached up to cup my face.

"Maker's breath, watching you like that…I want to see your face, just like that, every day, forever."

I smiled softly, wondering if he realised he'd just offered me a lifetime commitment. I wasn't planning on holding him to it, but it felt nice none-the-less. I leaned into his hand, planting a kiss on his palm, and then leaned forward to kiss his lips. I felt him twitch inside me when I nibbled his lower lip, and suddenly I was upright again as he sat up on the bed. Still buried inside my channel, he wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face into my neck, and I responded in kind. He smelled of sweat, which was somehow sexy instead of gross, and I imagined I smelled, if anything, worse, so I couldn't really complain.

Still sitting so my breasts were pressed against his well-muscled chest, I felt Alistair's hands wander down to my hips; he used his grip to encourage me to move, and once again I rode him. I loved the closeness, with him sitting up – it was nice to be at eye-level and be able to kiss without contortion. I wasn't going to come again – I was fairly certain that whatever controlled that function had closed for the night – and I planned to enjoy making it all about him for once. Along those lines, I concentrated, and for the first time in my life, purposefully tried to flex the muscles I could feel contracting during an orgasm. It took me a couple of tries to get it right, and I could tell I had when he gasped and picked up even more speed. He was now in control, his powerful arms lifting me and slamming me back down onto him, and I watched his face as I contracted my muscles in time. I cupped his cheeks in my hands, and like he had done to me earlier, demanded he look at me.

His face contorted in pleasure, and he looked absolutely gorgeous, hedonistic and, well, like I imagined Adonis would as he fought to maintain eye contact while his hips jerked and he spent inside me. A curl of heat spread from my centre as I watched him, and I'd never felt more satiated in my life. He flopped back, panting and trying to recover, and I went with him, laying on his chest. He finally softened, and we both shuddered as he slipped out of me; I slid to one side of him, still cradled in his arm, and molded my body to his side. I reached down and grabbed a light blanket to cover us, not cold, but imagining I would be once the sweat I could feel coating me began to dry.

"So I have a question."

"I'm not going to say 'hit me', if that's what you're hoping."

I giggled. "I wouldn't. I only abuse my brother. Making up for all the years of tormenting him that I missed while we were growing up."

He snorted, and I could hear the grin. "I'm so glad the two of you found each other."

"Me too. But back to my question." I lifted my head and gave him my best scowl. "I thought you were a virgin, before yesterday."

He raised an eyebrow, expression puzzled. "I was."

"I don't believe you."

"You knew I was before we even met, how can you not believe me?"

"Well…okay so I've mentioned before that where I'm from, information about sex is easily available, for anyone who wants it."

"Yes…?"

"And I imagine almost everyone spends at least a little bit of time 'educating' themselves. I did. And in everything I ever read, everyone I ever asked about sex, they all agreed about one thing – the first time with an inexperienced partner is supposed to be terrible for the woman. No control, overly excited, that sort of thing. My limited experience certainly agrees with that. But this was incredible. I know, Grey Warden stamina is part of it, at least in terms of recovery time, but…"

He blushed. "Confession time." I raised one eyebrow. "I, uh, 'educated' myself a bit too."

"You did? How?"

He grimaced. "Zevran."

"You asked Zevran for sex advice?" My voice went all shrill, and I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop it from saying anything else.

"Not exactly. At first, I just…paid attention, when he would talk. And all he talks about is sex, so that was fairly enlightening. Especially late at night, like on watch…I'd wake up from a Darkspawn nightmare and end up listening to him talk to Aedan or whoever. He and Leliana even spent a couple of nights comparing notes. He mentioned all sorts of 'secrets' he learned from living in a whore house, like for example, how the men would…" He made a hand gesture that was understandable in any culture, and I giggled at his scarlet face. "Before. So that they could be better."

"You did that?" I was too tired to be turned on, but the thought of him stroking himself was almost enough for me to overcome that obstacle.

He nodded, refusing to meet my eyes. "In the bath. Earlier."

_Now I have a mental image. Damn you Alistair!_

"So at first," he continued, "I just eavesdropped, but after a while, I would listen openly, and blush and stammer and act all confused, and you know how he loves to embarrass me, so I could sort of…lead the conversation where I wanted it to go."

My mouth open, I stared at him in shock. "You are…you are devious! I can't believe you faked that innocent act."

He chuckled nervously. "Not entirely, I mean, I was completely embarrassed, but it was…educational."

I shook my head, impressed yet again at the maturity and confidence it took for him to go to Zevran for advice, even if in a round-about fashion. Not to mention the acting skills! Game Alistair would have run away with his hands over his ears, singing loudly to himself.

I fell asleep with my head on his chest, a smile plastered to my face. For the first time in months, I was going to sleep sated instead of frustrated, and the soft susurration of his heartbeat was better than a lullaby.

When I woke, I was a bit disoriented; I was no longer resting on his chest, but instead curled up with Alistair spooned behind me. My head was on his outstretched arm, his other lay loosely on my hip. The room was dark; the candles had gone out. I had no idea what time it was, and I struggled to figure out what woke me. And then Alistair twitched, and I realised he was dreaming. I worried that it might be a darkspawn nightmare, until I heard him softly moan my name. When he twitched again, his arousal, which had worked its way between my thighs to press against my sex from behind, was enough of a clue as to what he was dreaming about. I blushed, embarrassed and aroused in the same breath.

I debated – what to do? Should I let him enjoy his dream, or wake him and make it come true, whatever it was? I decided that neither was entirely appropriate, but instead chose option C. There was plenty of moisture to be found, between our earlier exertions and my re-awakened desire, so I tilted my hips and awkwardly reached down to gently grasp his manhood and angle it properly. I slowly, carefully wriggled backwards and impaled myself on his length.

With some rest, most of the soreness had gone, but I found myself feeling stiff, like the morning after a new workout at the gym. Fortunately the position didn't require too many contortions, so I was free just to enjoy the stretch. He'd come half-awake during the process, if the hand clenching my hip was any indication, but there didn't appear yet to be coherent thought behind it based on the confused, dream-like muttering in my ear. Undeterred, I purposefully clenched, drawing a gasp and a surprised thrust from behind. _Oh, that's better than I even thought it would be._ I did it again, combining it this time with a pelvic tilt that slid him just slightly deeper inside me, and he groaned.

Now more awake, his arm, which pillowed my head so comfortably, bent down at a surprising angle and his fingers unerringly found my breast. The other, still gripping my hip, pulled me back as he thrust forward. The position did not allow him much freedom to move, but even the short strokes felt heavenly and I trembled as he began teasing my nipple. We continued like that, and I floated in a haze of pleasure, knowing it wasn't enough to bring me over, but content to draw things out for a while.

After a few minutes, his panting, gasping breaths in my ear became low growls, and I could feel he wanted more. I assumed he would pull out and we would reposition, but to my surprise he just rolled me forward a little, spreading my knees slightly so he could put his own knee down between mine, tilting my hips up, and used his improved leverage in combination with gravity to get the increased speed and depth he wanted. I could do nothing but moan wantonly, especially when his hand left my hip and quested forward to begin tormenting my aroused clit.

Lying there, in the pitch black, with Alistair in me and on me, all around me, I was struck by the strangest feeling. I was sort of embarrassed, but it was a weird combination of rightness, and possession, and connectedness I'd never even imagined before. Despite not being able to see, I knew exactly what he was going to do, and he knew exactly what to do to increase my pleasure without having to ask. I almost couldn't tell where I stopped and he began, and it was intoxicating. But I didn't say any of that; all I could do was moan and writhe and do my best to thrust back towards him and allow the waves of my orgasm to wash over me.

His relentless movement inside me and the pressure on my clit kept my orgasm going until I felt him press into me, hard, and stay there as he groaned out my name; the heat I could feel told me he'd found his release, and his hand finally fell away from my abused clit as I shuddered.

I muttered under my breath as we both sprawled, sated and exhausted. "Hallelujah."

"What?"

"Tell you tomorrow."

"Deal."

I didn't even really get the chance to come down; exhausted, I fell asleep mid-shudder, with him still inside me, his weight still on my back.

When I next opened my eyes, I could feel by the tension in the body spooned behind me that Alistair was awake. The early morning light was filtering through the shutters, I was guessing it was barely after dawn, and between the blankets and the enormous templar body-warmer, I was gloriously warm for possibly the first time since being in Ferelden. I cleared my throat, voice slightly hoarse and still thick from sleep.

"Good morning."

He hesitated before speaking, and when he did his voice was subdued. "Good morning."

I started to worry that he somehow had morning-after regrets, though I wouldn't have expected that. "Love? What's wrong?"

He sighed and shifted slightly away from me, letting cool air sneak in between us; I was suddenly chilled much more than the dropping temperature would account for.

"What's this?" I felt one finger tap me on the back, and I wrinkled my brow in confusion. _Do I have something stuck in my hair?_ And then it occurred to me what he was tapping on.

"It's a tattoo." I blushed, happy that he wouldn't be able to see it from behind.

"I gathered that. Why, exactly, do you have a tattoo of a dragon and a griffon, and a Chantry symbol of all things? Whose initials are these?"

I sighed. I mostly felt bad for Alistair, that his confidence, while better than it had been in game, wasn't good enough for him to guess.

"I got it after Haven. It…was an emotional time, for me, and I felt like I needed something to mark the occasion somehow. I asked Zevran to do it, and he did."

"That's what you were doing in his tent for hours? Really? I wondered, but after I made such an ass of myself, I didn't want to ask in case you took it the wrong way."

I giggled. "Yeah, that might not have gone over well."

He snorted. "I still have a bruise on my ear to remind me not to piss you off." I giggled again. "That still doesn't explain the tattoo, you know."

"I…it's hard to explain. The dragon, obviously, represents the Archdemon, but also just the…differences, I guess, between Thedas and where I grew up. And the griffon represents what I found here – yes, Grey Wardens, but also family, and strength. And the Chantry symbol is because…I might not be an Andrastian, but someone, maybe your Maker or maybe someone else, brought me here and let me find you and Aedan, so I guess it's my way of showing gratitude."

He was quiet for a bit, and I could practically hear the wheels turning as he thought about it. "And the initials?" His voice was barely a whisper, but I couldn't decide if it was hopeful or worried.

"I didn't ask for them. I was as surprised as you when I saw them there. Zevran claims they are random swirls and that it was only my wishful thinking that made them look like letters. He thought he was so clever." I sniffed, remembering his smug smile.

"And…?"

"For the love of all that's holy, Alistair! The 'S' is obviously me. The 'A' is you, you idiot! I told you, everyone knew how I felt about you. When I asked about them, Zev offered to change them, to colour over them, but…even though I thought, at the time, that I'd never get to be with you, it was…it was the only way I could keep you with me, somehow. And then I thought you hated me, and it seemed like it was all I'd ever have of you, since I couldn't even have your friendship."

My eyes were moist, and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear them. _I am not going to cry, not over this._ I was shocked when his arms encircled me from behind, shifting me so I faced him and then crushing me to his chest. He stroked my hair, tilting my chin to look into my eyes. His own eyes were bright with unshed tears as well, and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could speak.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I never hated you, Sierra. Was jealous and insecure, sure…I guess I still am, really. It isn't you. It was never you. Sometimes I just can't believe that you are here with me. It seems too unreal. You could have anyone you wanted; you could be Queen, if that's what you wanted – I know Cailan was considering it. Why would you want to be with me? I'm not complaining, of course, and I'm not trying to excuse my behaviour, I'm just…explaining, I guess. If I were you, I wouldn't be with me. I could never assume that 'A' was for me."

"I know, Alistair. I'm not really frustrated with you. Actually what I'd like to do is kick Eamon's and Isolde's asses for making you so insecure in the first place."

"Eamon took me in, and he didn't have to. I-"

I cut him off. "Eamon took you in exactly because he had to, Alistair. Maric made him. Maric promised your mother to raise you away from court, but he wanted you somewhere he thought you'd be safe. He loved your mother; he begged her to stay, but she could not. He loved you. My guess is he wanted you trained as a knight, to someday quietly settle you as the Bann of something or other. Why he decided that his brother-in-law, the brother of his late wife, who had no relation to you and who would see you as a potential stain on his sister's memory, should be the one to raise you I will never understand. Or maybe I do – Eamon has a way of making others think he's an honourable guy. Maybe Maric fell for it. He should have sent you to Rainesfere or even Highever, though I expect he worried that if someone discovered who you were they would try to use you against Cailan when the time came…

"Regardless, I can guarantee that he did not want you sleeping in the hayloft, or mucking out the kennels, or being treated as less than a servant. Or going to the Chantry, for that matter. I bet that Eamon took you into the castle and had you cleaned up and looking presentable every time Maric visited, am I right?" He looked thoughtful, but after a short hesitation, slowly nodded. "He couldn't allow Maric to find out how you lived. I can only assume that Eamon sent you off to the Chantry without notifying Maric, and by the time he found out it was too late. He couldn't rescue you without acknowledging you, and he'd promised not to. I more than suspect that Maric asked Duncan to get you out of the Chantry before you took your vows. Of course, he didn't know that the Joining could have killed you."

His face was drawn, expression sad as he thought about what I'd said. I wanted to take his pain away, but knew only time could do that. I leaned in and kissed him softly.

"I know you feel grateful to Eamon, and I commend you on your charitable attitude. Personally, I'd like to kick him in the unmentionables with steel-toed boots on. That's one of the ways I know you're a better person than I am." I grinned, and he smiled weakly. "But the fact remains, you are a good person, an incredibly strong person, as well as being gorgeous and sweet and thoughtful and extremely good in bed. How about you just stop thinking of yourself as being undeserving, or I will have to spank you. And while Zevran might think that sounds like fun, I can assure you, you won't enjoy it."

He laughed, and something in his face changed. I knew he hadn't taken it in, hadn't accepted everything just yet, but at that moment I knew he would, eventually. And I couldn't have been more proud.

"Speaking of…"

"You're really going to start a sentence with 'speaking of spanking'?"

"Just shut up, woman."

He kissed me then, and the passion was undeniable. As sore as I was, when he took my nipple into his mouth and started stroking my clit, I couldn't have said no if my life depended on it. After I came on his fingers, he rolled between my thighs and didn't stop until I was screaming his name.

As I shuddered to a halt, he asked me about my strange outburst in the night.

"What's that hall thing?"

"Hall…? Right. Hallelujah. It's…Hmm. Hallelujah is something people on Earth say when they are praising God for something. 'Hallelujah, we are saved!' But it's also a song, and the words of one of the verses just seemed really appropriate."

"Well now you have to sing it for me."

"Maybe later. Or, you know, not. But the verse I was thinking of goes like this: Remember when I moved in you, the holy dark was moving too, and every breath we drew was hallelujah?"

He kissed me softly, and I smiled into his mouth. "Maybe I'll teach it to Leli later."

* * *

A/N:

As usual, I don't own Dragon Age. Many thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande for their invaluable betaing skills!

Here's a shout out to those I am currently betaing for: OnkelJo and Enchantm3nt both have fun stories posted - take a look!

Reviews: chapter 43 and 44

Enchantm3nt: I have to admit I catch myself sometimes not being able to tell whether I'm thinking of in-game Alistair or my AU Alistair - hardly surprising Sierra can't keep it straight. Hope you enjoyed the steamy bits!

Emily cousland (Guest): Your mom seriously objects to writing? That's just...sad. Mine objects to computer games, not writing :)

Ajp25: I too am super-dooper looking forward to the Landmeet. If only stupid Orzammar wasn't in the way... :)

AnnabelleHawke022812: He has just a little chest hair. Not like, I dunno, Varric or something :) Fergus...I have plans. Should be fun. but not for a while...he's still lost in the Wilds somewhere :)

ShellyGamerGal: Hope the steamy bits lived up to expectations :)

Flower248: Sorry about the tease. But here's the next chapter!

Lexibarnett: She hasn't stopped popping back and forth. Promise. There's just been a lot happening so each chapter doesn't take up that much time...

And thanks to: brandischoch, renegadelove, and Anderslove for your reviews as well!


	3. Chapter 46: The Morning After

**Note: This is the NSFW version of this story. If you'd prefer, a version without explicit content is available - see my profile for details.**

**Chapter Forty-Six: The Morning After**

I fell asleep again, I assume, because when I woke up I was being very gently washed. Alistair knelt on the bed beside me, an intense look of concentration on his face. Seeing that I was awake, he encouraged me to roll onto my back and spread my thighs, and he wiped away our combined secretions from first my thighs, then even more gently from my groin. I watched his face, admiring how beautiful he was, wishing I could show him what he looked like from my perspective.

His eyes went wide, and his absorbed look was suddenly replaced with a frightened expression.

"Alistair, what's wrong?"

"I…you…" He gestured helplessly at the cloth he was holding, and I looked down to see traces of blood staining the fabric. "You told me I didn't hurt you." Self-recrimination was obvious in his voice.

"It's okay. I'm not injured, Alistair. It's just that…well, you know that I have a different body, back where I came from, right?"

He nodded, still frowning.

"Well, it was that body that had sex before. Not this one. It's normal for a woman to bleed a small amount after the first time."

His frown lifted, and he finally met my eyes, seeming to judge the truth of my words.

"I'm not in pain, love. A bit stiff, I have to admit, but nothing like what I would feel if you had hurt me."

He relaxed, finally. "Maybe we should have Wynne check you out, just in case?"

"Again, what would I say? I fell down the stairs, could you see why I'm bleeding from the-"

"Okay, okay!"

"Are you that embarrassed by the word?"

His expression became evasive. "What word?"

"Vagina."

Evasive gave way to beet red. "Ah! Don't say that."

"Really? You're perfectly willing to play with it, but you can't say it?" I giggled. "Vagina. Vagina vagina vagina."

He put his hands over his ears, and started humming to himself. "La la la, not listening!"

I cracked up, and he finally joined in with a small chuckle when he saw I was laughing too hard to keep saying the word. "Remind me to talk dirty next time we're-"

He leapt out of bed, talking over me in a desperate attempt to block out what I was saying and change the subject. "So I suppose we should get dressed, I bet Aedan is waiting for us downstairs."

I giggled, but let the subject change stand. Getting up, I realised I was quite a bit more stiff than I'd let on, but determined not to let it show. Stretching triggered an appreciative groan from Alistair, and I ignored it, picking through my clothes and chose a shirt and pair of pants. I got distracted watching Alistair shimmy into his own pants, blushing and hurrying to slip into mine when he caught me staring. When I grabbed my bra, I had to stop and show Alistair how the clasps and the elastic worked; he was fascinated by the garment. Finally putting it on, I felt the need to run my hands over his strong chest one more time before he got his shirt in place, and he blushed.

Going down stairs proved to be quite uncomfortable on my hips and groin muscles, and I bit my cheek to keep from grunting in pain. Happily the stairs were narrow, so Alistair had to descend in front of me and couldn't see my face. We found most of our companions at a round table in the corner already stuffing their faces; the place was otherwise nearly deserted. Leliana looked at us suspiciously, breaking out into a full smile when she saw me grinning; Aedan refused to make eye contact, and Wynne greeted us absent-mindedly, her nose still in her book. Zevran was across the room talking to someone, nodding as the other man gestured. He was tall, at least by comparison to the elf, but his features were obscured by a hood. Zevran was the only one in armour; everyone else wore simple clothing. I shrugged and sat, Alistair on one side, a gap and then Aedan on the other.

Aedan waved at Sanga and she nodded, I assumed understanding she was to bring us out plates as well. There were something that looked like scones, jam, sausages, and even pancakes; I was suddenly starving. _Too much exercise last night…_I heaped my plate full when it was presented to me, triggering a peal of laughter from Leliana, and an irritated grunt from Aedan. I couldn't figure out what his problem was, until I noticed his ears were red and a vein pulsing in his forehead. _He must have guessed what happened with Alistair and I last night_…I wondered if he'd come to knock on the door at an inconvenient time or something. I decided to ignore it and hope he got over it.

When Zevran returned, he sat beside me with a flourish, taking my hand and kissing it ostentatiously, like he hadn't done since shortly after we first met, calling me his 'beautiful dove'. Alistair didn't even stiffen – _I guess his confidence is in better shape than I thought!_ \- but I was confused, until I felt something being firmly pressed into my hand. When Zev released me, I had a small bottle in my grasp. I held it down, between him and me, and glanced at it surreptitiously, only to realise it was a healing potion like he'd given me after my tattoo, like the ones Wayne used to give me after training to treat pulled muscles, only empty. I raised my eyebrows at him, but he just smiled innocently and nodded toward my mug. I hadn't even seen him dose my drink!

_Does everyone know we had sex?_ I sighed, but took a big sip of whatever it was. It tasted horrible, but I wasn't sure if it was the watered ale or the potion causing the problem. I covered my gag and slammed the rest of the contents back. Within a couple of minutes, my stiffness eased off, and some stinging I hadn't even noticed disappeared. I grinned at Zev, and he grinned back.

Once everyone had eaten, we started discussing plans for the day. Leliana claimed me for some shopping; Aedan wanted Zev, Alistair, Wynne, Prince, and himself to go find themselves some work, though he was a bit vague on what they would do. I mentioned Sergeant Kylon, and he nodded; they also thought they'd try the Chanter's board. While they were out, they were going to scope out the street where Marjolaine was staying, and Leli and I had strict orders to stay well away. We decided that Leliana could go as my bodyguard, and therefore wear her helmet, much to the bard's dismay, but we figured it was safe enough for my face to be seen – Loghain knew nothing about me.

Alistair, Aedan, Leliana, and Wynne headed up to their respective rooms to gear up, while Zevran and I stayed in the common room and chatted for a while since he was already in armour, and I was in no rush; I'd need another bath before I could possibly pass as a Ferelden noblewoman. As soon as everyone cleared the room, I turned to Zev, determined to get some answers.

"Okay, so what was that all about last night with Alistair? What did you give him?"

Zevran's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Our beloved Warden merely asked me if I knew of anything to improve his performance in the bedroom, bella donna. He was nervous that he might not be able to please you. And it worked, did it not? You certainly look…pleased, yes?"

I stared at him for a moment, still startled beyond compare that Alistair would have gone to the assassin for sex advice. And then the rest of what he said filtered in, and I face-palmed.

I hissed under my breath, not wanting anyone to hear my response. "You gave him Viagra? Are you kidding me? Six times, Zevran. I had six orgasms in about four hours! I was pretty sure I'd have a stroke, at one point in there. You could have at least given him a half-dose, for the love of God."

"Ah, but cara mia, you misunderstand me. He asked for something to improve performance. I did not give him such a thing. I am well-familiar with Grey Warden stamina, my dove. I knew he needed nothing to boost performance except for possibly some confidence. So I gave him some harmless elfroot extract, which at best would have taken care of any minor discomforts he had, and I took the liberty of adding in a…well, it wouldn't do to have a child during a blight, no? I told him it would ensure he was able to perform to the best of his ability, and let him assume the rest. It was not precisely a lie, was it? And I'd say it turned out rather well."

My mouth fell open and I stammered uselessly for a moment before collecting myself again. "You gave him a placebo, and birth control?" I contemplated Zevran's rather thoughtful gesture. A pregnancy definitely wasn't in any of our best interests. But he didn't know that I had an IUD, back on Earth, so we didn't need the contraceptive. _Although, that's a different body…maybe we do? But I haven't had my period, since I came here…._My head threatened to explode, and I concentrated on Zevran's words.

"I do not know this word, placebo. But if you mean I told him it was medicinal when it wasn't, exactly, then yes. I did."

"And he still…six times?"

"Grey Wardens are marvelous, are they not?"

"Well, at least I know how you knew we had sex last night."

"Ah, well, I hate to disagree with a beautiful woman such as yourself, but bella donna…I am certain that everyone within three blocks of this establishment knows you were, shall we say, busy, last night. You are not precisely…quiet."

My face felt hot, and I buried it in my hands, rocking in agitation. "I…we…were that loud?"

I risked a glance at his face, and he gave me a wicked smile. I groaned. "No wonder Aedan was so weird at breakfast!"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, well, that was one reason, I suppose."

"One reason?"

"I rather think he was concerned about running into a certain lusty pirate queen."

"Where is Isabela this morning, anyway?"

"I imagine she crept into her own room to try to catch a little bit of sleep."

Something in his voice made me suspicious, and I turned to look at Zevran, puzzled. "She was awake all night?" He nodded, his expression, if possible, even more smug than normal. My eyes widened in horror. "You didn't. Zevran! Please tell me you did not debauch my brother with Isabela."

His grin widened slightly, and then his innocent look slipped into place. "I did not. Your brother was three sheets to the wind, and he and Isabela managed to…'debauch'…all on their own, really. I mostly watched – the first time, anyway." The glint in his eye belied his Chantry-goer expression.

I stammered again. "I was joking when I suggested it!"

His innocent façade slipped and he actually giggled. "Well, perhaps you should be careful what you joke about, yes?"

And then I knew why Isabela hadn't stayed in the common room for the brawl. She had somewhere else to be. I groaned again, hiding my blushing face in my hands yet again_. I'll never be able to look Aedan in the eye again. Wait…_

"Zevran?"

"Yes, cara mia?"

"Wasn't that his first time with a woman?" After he had admitted to his sexual preference, Aedan and I had a few frank discussions about his experience, or lack thereof prior to Zevran, which basically consisted of some hidden, furtive groping sessions with Ser Gilmore.

"I believe so, yes."

I slapped my forehead again. "You let him…his first…Isabela?" I couldn't even talk, between mortification and righteous indignation.

"I don't believe he had any complaints. Of course, he wouldn't admit to such with her right there, I suppose…"

"Zevran, I'm going to kill you. One day, when you least expect it."

"What did he do now?" Leliana plopped onto the bench beside me, expression amused.

"Never mind. I need to have a bath."

"Wait. Before you go…well, here." He handed me a small bottle, filled with a grey powder.

"What's this?"

"The…medicine, I told you about. For Alistair. A small pinch per day, yes?" Zevran grinned cheekily.

I hopped up, slapped Zev lightly on the back of the head, earning myself a lascivious chuckle, and then headed up to the bathing facilities. I ran into Aedan and Alistair, getting a hug from the first, and a rather enthusiastic kiss from the second. I reminded them both to stay safe before they left to do their recon and make some money. Leliana must have warned someone about the bath, because the boy was leaving the bathing chamber as I arrived, and the sunken tub was steaming.

I washed my hair, then soaped the rest of me, enjoying the feeling of ridding myself of the sweat I'd earned overnight. One of the little bottles near the tub smelled sort of like conditioner, so I put some in my hair, and to my delight, was able to easily comb through my usually tangled hair. I decided to ask Sanga if I could buy some later. I slipped into my fake-velvet dress, tied my hair up in a braided bun, and headed back down into the common room. Leliana waited there alone, and when I arrived, she slipped on her helmet and escorted me back to the market.

We shopped for the morning, buying me two pairs of sensible shoes, and each of us one pair of completely frivolous fancy shoes. She insisted on ordering me a new dress, a proper Fereldan noblewoman's dress, though I gathered the fashions were not quite to the bard's standards. I thought it was beautiful; it was a deep burgundy with gold accents, was going to be tight through the bodice, and then flow to the floor and swish when I walked. I had no idea when she thought I would wear it, but I couldn't dissuade her.

No one in the market bothered us, though we saw plenty of mercenaries who watched us appreciatively; I guessed Leliana being clearly armed to the hilt discouraged any harassment. We ate meat pies bought from a street vendor for lunch, and despite having no idea what sort of meat they contained, I managed to get mine down without problems. Leliana clearly wanted to quiz me about the previous evening, but it would have looked strange for a bodyguard to be giggling with her employer, so she decided to wait.

I looked for a red-bearded dwarf in the market, but didn't find him; I hoped nothing had happened to Gorim, with all the changes that had happened since my arrival. I resolved to take Aedan and find him the next day.

Tired from the lack of sleep the night before and from the walking, we headed back to the Pearl in the early afternoon. Isabela was in the common room, eyes puffy and red, sipping at some broth, and I had to laugh. _Apparently Aedan wasn't the only one who overindulged last night!_ The pirate invited Leli and I to sit with her; by mutual unspoken consent, we sat together opposite the Rivaini.

We chatted for a while, before it occurred to me that there were some things I wanted to tell Isabela. I thought about it while we talked. I didn't want to warn her off the disastrous slave transporting job she would take after the ending of the Blight – who knew what would happen to those poor people if someone else took the contract, and had less conscience – but I did want to stop her stealing the Tome of Koslun, if at all possible. Then it occurred to me that if I stopped her, Castillon might hire someone else to steal it instead, and it could be an even bigger political disaster with the Qunari. In the end, I gave her a vague warning about finding someone named Hawke, and trusting them with whatever trouble she was in. Perhaps if Isabela opened up to Hawke sooner, she could prevent some of the worst of the destruction. Isabela was suspicious and a bit creeped out, I think. I couldn't help it; I wasn't about to explain to her what was going on.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. I couldn't save everyone, even with all my knowledge, and I knew that; it didn't make it any easier to live with.

Once Isabela had excused herself to head to the docks and check on her ship, I peppered Leliana with questions about mailing letters to people, and she assured me that she could ensure any letters I wrote found their intended recipients, for perhaps two sovereigns per letter. I thought about what I wanted to say to whom for a long time, but didn't come up with anything definitive and resolved to think about it a while longer. I had plenty of coin, at least; Aedan had continued Duncan's habit of splitting our coin between himself, Alistair, and me, as well as making sure our companions had enough to buy whatever they needed, but then always paid for things out of his own purse anyway, so my stash probably amounted to more than thirty sovereigns.

Leliana then started quizzing me about my night with Alistair. Much to her chagrin, I refused to give her any details, but she knew without being told that we'd finally had sex. And the shit-eating grin on my face must have given something away, because she was blushing and giggling almost as much as I was.

I went up to the room I shared with Alistair and had a nap; the sheets had been changed, and the room aired out. _I could get used to this…but I'd better not._ When Alistair came in, a few hours later, his armour covered in gore, I scrambled out of bed in a panic.

"What happened? Are you alright?" I immediately started checking him over for injuries. "I hate not being there. I should have been. Why did I let you go without me?"

He tried to push away my hands, eventually grabbing my wrists to still them. "I'm fine! Sierra. Look at me. I'm fine. None of this blood is mine. We're all fine. We did some work for the Chanter's board. And there's a group of mercenaries trying to clean up some of the problems in the Market District, and it's been a mini-civil war in the back alleys. We helped out some group called the Black…something. I don't know what good it will do, but it paid well, so good enough."

I stopped. "The Blackstone Irregulars?"

"That sounds right. You know them?"

"A bit. I don't remember exactly… Let me think. They'll have all sorts of paying work, though at some point the leader's son will attempt a coup, and try to hire you to assassinate his father, or something. Don't do it. The son is a creep."

He laughed. "I love you, have I told you that today?" He leaned down to kiss me, and I quickly moved away. He pouted.

"You've got blood on your face."

"Maker! Sorry. I'll go have a bath, quickly. Then maybe we can try that kiss again?"

The glint in his eye made it obvious he was hoping for more than a kiss, and I shivered. "I have a better idea."

"Oh?"

"How about I help you wash?"

I don't think I'd ever imagined someone in heavy plate armour getting undressed so fast.

We had the tub filled, both of us red-faced and giggling as the boy who hauled the water grinned cheekily and winked at Alistair when he thought I wasn't looking. We gave him Alistair's armour to be cleaned, and then locked the door. I slipped my simple dress over my head, and slid into the bath, which was hot and smelled sort of foresty. Alistair's gaze never left me as I waited for him to rinse the worst of the blood off his skin and hair in a bucket before joining me.

Alistair wet was even more fantastic than Alistair any other way, and I was drawn to him like iron to a magnet. Kneeling in the tub, facing each other, I took the cloth and began washing his face, neck, arms, and chest, while he just watched me with dark eyes. He stood, and I washed his stomach and legs, both of us blushing as that put his manhood on the level with my face. When he sat back down, I had him turn so his back was to me, and washed that as well, then massaged his scalp with shampoo. He floated on his back, his eyes closed, a blissful look on his face, and I rinsed his hair carefully before leaning over him and pressing a kiss to his soft lips.

That was apparently the invitation he'd been looking for; he sat up, drawing me into his lap so I straddled him, and kissed me again. I could feel his hardness against my thigh, and raised myself a little to capture it inside me before sinking down to rest against his legs. His hands stroked me everywhere, gently but firmly so as not to tickle, and he soon had me whimpering with need. I started to move, lifting up and dropping back down, but he moved his hands to my hips to keep me moving slowly, teasing us both. The leisurely speed allowed us to maintain the connection with our lips, and he swallowed my moans as the heat in my core increased. I wanted to speed up, desperate for release, wanting to feel him spend inside me, but he held me relentlessly and all I could do was endure.

When release finally did come it was somehow softer, smoother than the frenzy in the night, but at the same time strangely more intense and fulfilling. He shuddered through his own at the same time; I felt like I was closer to Alistair when it was over than I had been before and I collapsed into his arms with a long sigh.

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A/N:

I don't own Dragon Age, as much as I wish I did!

Thanks to Melysande and Kira Tamarion for their help with beta-reading this!

Reviews:

AnnabelleHawke022812: I'm glad Alistair's chest hair has your approval ;) I try for realism in my smut. Hopefully it works! Yeah, I'd have liked to hear the conversations between Zev and a sneaky blushy Alistair...

Enchantm3nt: Yeah, I like the smut (obviously). But I don't like PWP smut. It should help explain the characters or advance the relationship or something. So, glad that worked out :) And for the record, I despise Eamon, so Sierra's not going to be overly complimentary...

VeryaTirananniel: No pitter-patter of little feet, as you can see. Sierra was assuming her Earth contraceptive would work, but Zev made sure :) Sadly Sten is back at camp outside of Denerim, but yeah...he'd be mind-boggled, I'm sure.

Guest: I will cover some aspects of both Awakening and DA2. Not the same as Origins, since Sierra won't be in Kirkwall, but some of the stuff will show up...

Cly1978: Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'd assume I was crazy, and decide I might as well have fun with Alistair while it lasted...poor Sierra's a little less sure :)

Pervinca T: Welcome! I'm glad I could suck you in :) I certainly try to avoid both DID (damsel in distress) and Mary-Sue ends of the spectrum, but it's a fine line. I rely on you all to tell me if I fall! I'm happy to have proved your assumptions wrong! :)

Dolce Latte van Creme: No point in being embarrassed! There's nothing wrong with enjoying smut. Millions of people can't be wrong :) And it's not like it "Hard Times in High Town" sort of smut, so...just enjoy :)

And thanks to Guest, ShellyGamerGal, sweetnessnme, and Flower248 for their reviews which didn't have specific questions!


	4. Chapter 47: Panic and Planning

**This is the original unedited version of this story, including graphic descriptions of sex. For a non-explicit version, please see the original story There and Back Again.**

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**Chapter Forty-Seven: Panic and Planning**

We finally, reluctantly climbed out of the now-cool water and got dressed, teasing each other and laughing the whole time. When we finally made it out of the bathing room, a passing servant pointed us to a small private dining room that Aedan had apparently rented after the brawl fiasco from the night before. Everyone had cleaned up, and we had a wonderful dinner just talking and laughing. Everyone avoided talking business, and it felt like a wonderful preview of what it might be like when the blight was over.

Back in our room, Alistair swallowed the noxious pinch of powder from the vial Zevran had given me; we knew that having a child would be difficult, given my possible birth control and his being a Grey Warden, but we decided that caution was probably for the best. It still seemed weird to me that birth control was something you gave to a man, not a woman. To my surprise, Alistair expressed incredible longing to have a family of his own, some day; I supposed, given his upbringing, it wasn't so strange. Growing up without one made the urge to have a family that much greater, as I could testify to from personal experience.

We made slow sweet love again before passing out, limbs intertwined; somehow I thought that having been with him my desire would be less immediate, less desperate, but if anything I wanted him more than I had before. We woke in the night and reached for each other again; my last thought before sleep claimed me the second time was that I was going to have to get good at making healing potions if we kept up at the same rate much longer.

I woke early in the morning, to find Alistair still deeply asleep, his beautiful face relaxed as he snored softly. I was starving; I slid out of bed, carefully and as quietly as I could manage, and slipped on a loose-fitting linen dress from the pile of clothes in the corner. I went down to the main room to find us something for breakfast. My hair was tousled, my dress wrinkled from hours on the cold stone floor, but I was too sleepy to care, and it was early enough that I might not run into anyone, anyway. I crept into the kitchen, loading up a tray with bread, cheese, and dried fruit, tossing a couple of strips of jerky on top for Alistair. I giggled as I remembered him declaring, at supper the night before, that he wanted 'meat with every meal'. Zevran made a smart comment about offering him some meat, and everyone howled as he blushed scarlet and stammered. I finally distracted the poor boy with a kiss, earning a grin from Aedan, and a wink from Zevran. The memory made me smile.

I passed Leliana in the hall on the way back to the room I shared with Alistair, and she teased me about my hair, making me stop long enough for her to halfway tame it to lay straight down my back, and then I hustled along, chilly in the cold morning air, until I reached the door. I balanced the tray with one hand, awkwardly, almost dropping it as I grabbed for the door handle. Pushing my way inside, I stabilised the tray and deposited it on a table just inside the door, twisting to pull the door shut and lock it.

As I turned back, I gasped as Alistair (who I expected to still be in bed, snoring peacefully) grabbed my arms, pulling me to him, crushing me into his embrace. And suddenly, his hands were in my hair, his lips bruising mine, his tongue in my mouth, and I was breathless in surprise. I could feel passion radiating off him in waves, and it was all I could do to fist my hands in the cotton of his tunic, holding on for dear life. The hair Leliana had carefully arranged was destroyed beyond repair as he tangled his strong fingers into it.

He leaned into me, and I took an involuntary step back under his weight. He pressed again, and I was backed up against the door, our bodies clasped tightly together. His passion was infectious, and I was suddenly desperate to be closer to him. I could feel his muscles contracting under my fingers, and needed to lay my hands on his skin. Releasing his shirt, I slid my arms around his slim waist, slipping down beneath the edge of his tunic and back up to splay my hands against his lower back. His groan was feral, and I was actually frightened for a fraction of a second as my primitive brain responded to the much larger predator it suddenly realised was about to devour me. And I felt devoured; his mouth on mine was savage and demanding, his teeth nipping at my lips, his tongue dueling with mine. A shot of adrenaline coursed through me like fire, and a submissive moan was all I managed in response.

His knee pressed between my legs, and mine separated to allow access. The sounds I could hear were exhilarating and confusing; I was so wrapped up in him I didn't even recognise my own voice. A moan as his thigh pressed against my sex; a sigh as his lips left mine; a gasp as he instead tilted my head and latched onto my neck; a growl as I felt his hardness on my hip. I needed him more than I needed air, and I started scrabbling at the buttons on his tunic, barely managing to disentangle his arms long enough to shove it down to the floor. One of his arms slipped around my waist, giving me an opening to run my fingers through his hair on their way down to stroke across his broad, muscular shoulders. His skin was hot to the touch, a striking contrast to the cold air, and I shuddered in response.

Releasing me again, he reached down to grab at the fabric of my dress, trying to pull it up and get access to my own skin. The voluminous skirts thwarted him, tumbling down around his hands, and finally I pushed him away an inch, grabbed the hem, and lifted my arms, pulling the dress off over my head and tossing it to the floor. I hadn't bothered with bra or underwear for a quick run to the kitchen, and this left me naked. He let out a possessive growl as he raked over me with his eyes, and I flushed, pink traveling from my cheeks, to the tips of my ears, to the tops of my breasts, and I saw his eyes darken with appreciation. Despite the horror-movie hair I knew I must be sporting, I'd never felt so beautiful in my life.

He returned to me then, hands suddenly everywhere, lips glued to my neck, providing both literal and figurative warmth to fight the chill in the air. His thigh returned to its place between my legs, and I could feel the rough linen of his trousers rubbing across my lower lips. I wondered if I'd leave a stain, and decided I didn't care. His hands roamed, from my neck, to cup my breasts, grip my ass and pull me tighter against him, tickle across my abdomen and tease my navel. Each new touch dragged another sound from my lips. He knelt in front of me, sucking each of my small breasts into his mouth in turn, hands still exploring me, and I grabbed a handful of his hair to hold his head in place while shudders ran through me. I felt like molten lava ran through my veins, not blood, and each place he touched was its own miniature volcano. Despite everything, I'd never truly felt feeble before, but in the face of his passion I was weak as a kitten.

When he stood up, I couldn't take it any longer and fumbled at the waist of his trousers. He pushed my hands away, finally ripping the knotted cord that held them up, and kicked them off. I stared at him, my own perfect Adonis, his muscles rippling in time to his panting breaths, and he let me look, a knowing smile playing across his flushed face. My gaze travelled further down and I saw that he was hard, head purple and slightly leaking, reaching up towards me, and I needed him. I almost sobbed with need, hands reaching out for him. He waited another heartbeat, and then two, and I finally found my voice and whispered out a stuttered "Pl...please, Alistair."

The last syllable rose to a cry as he rushed back to me, arms around me, lifting, pressing, and suddenly he had my legs wrapped around his waist, his hands on my ass, and he was lowering me onto him. I tilted my hips slightly as I felt his tip brush over my sex, capturing him and holding the right angle as he filled me. He pressed my back against the door, holding himself still and letting me adjust to his size. I wasn't having that, my need was too great, and I awkwardly tried to thrust my hips against his, scraping my nails across his back. Getting the picture, he buried his face in my neck again and lifted with his arms, sliding me up his cock before mercilessly dropping me back down. I hissed in pleasure, urging him to do it again, and he complied, setting up a rhythm, pounding into me, demanding surrender, and I cried out wantonly.

I heard myself babbling, and as embarrassed as I was, I couldn't seem to stop. As he relentlessly thrust into me, a steady stream of endearments poured from my lips.

"Only for you, Alistair. It was always and only you. I've never wanted anyone else, forever just for you."

I peaked quickly, the lava boiling now, but he was relentless and kept going, kept demanding, and my whispers gave way to a rising keen as my temperature kept increasing, and I wondered if sex could actually make someone's head explode, and then I couldn't think as I came again, hips wriggling uselessly.

Before I even had a chance to draw a breath, he lifted me up and off him, setting my feet shakily on the floor, and I moaned in despair as I was suddenly empty. I didn't have much time to think, however; he turned me, taking my hands and bracing them on the door where my back had been, reached around in front of me to run his fingers through my sodden lips, bent down a bit awkwardly, and suddenly I was filled again from behind.

I bowed my head, resting it against my arms on the door, enjoying the aftershocks of my last orgasm as my walls squeezed him within me. He groaned again, and hunched over me, one hand reaching around to cup a small breast, his thumb flicking across my nipple, while the other steadied my hip. It was his turn to babble, and I heard him breathlessly whispering a mantra of possession and passion.

"You are mine, I'll never let you go. So beautiful! Maker's Breath, I love you, Sierra."

His thrusts increased in tempo again, and realising I was adequately stabilised, his hand followed the line of my hip, down in front, where his deft fingers found my button. Already over stimulated, I thrashed and shrieked, and with a roar his rhythm faltered and I felt him pulse inside me. Shuddering together, his hands finally stilled and slid away from my oversensitive parts, at the same time that he softened and slipped out of me. I turned and threw my arms around his neck, and he chuckled and wrapped his own around me. We clung together as we caught our breath, and then I felt his knees buckle. We collapsed to the ground in slow motion, managing only to turn so I landed in a pile of quilts, that he'd kicked away before bed, instead of on the stone floor. He ended up lying across me, his head pillowed on my breast, his belly pressed against my sex, his hips between my knees, while I lay on my back with my arms around his shoulders. I could feel our mixed secretions seeping out, probably soaking his belly and pooling in the blankets under me, but neither of us cared enough to do anything about it.

I repositioned some of the quilts to provide myself a makeshift pillow, then returned to running my fingers through his hair and stroking his soft skin. It was an interesting contrast between the smooth skin and the hard muscle underneath, and I enjoyed the goosebumps I elicited as I played.

"So...what brought that on, love?" I finally asked, curious.

His voice was muffled as he nuzzled my breast, but I could have sworn he sounded embarrassed.

"I woke up, and you weren't here. I thought...I thought you were gone. Back to your world. That I might never see you again. I jumped up and got dressed, planning to search the place. When you opened the door, I was so relieved, I just...lost control."

"If this is my reward, I'm going to bring you breakfast in bed more often, I think." I grinned and he blushed. "Maybe not for a few days, though. I'm going to need some recovery time."

"Oh, Maker, did I hurt you? I was so frantic..."

"Hurt? No. Never. Wear out? Maybe a little bit." He lifted his head and grinned up at me, face smug. I playfully slapped his shoulder.

"But, Alistair..." I pointed out the amulet that hung around my neck, the only thing I wore besides a satiated templar. "You could have just checked the bedpost. You saw me take this off last night..."

His smugness turned into sheepishness. "I didn't even think to look. I just...panicked." I snickered again.

"Well I'm not complaining." His smug smile resurfaced, and I grinned in return, at the same time that my mind worried. _What will happen the next time I actually disappear?_ I had tried to avoid Alistair for just this reason, but I was too weak...had I doomed him to panic every time I was out of his line of sight for five minutes?

We fell asleep like that, on the floor, his body heat preventing me from getting cold. What finally woke us again was his stomach growling, and we laughed and crawled into the bed, naked, feeding each other playfully. We finally took turns washing up at the washstand and dressing before wandering down to the private dining room Aedan had rented. I was stiff, again, and wondered if I'd get the chance to drag Zev aside and ask if that ever got better, if you could get used to it. And to get a recipe for making those little healing bottles…

We had planned a quiet day, overall; the three rogues were going to do some more recon on Marjolaine's place, and the rest of us were just going to relax. In the dining room, Zev slipped me another healing bottle and then he left with Leli and Aedan, each of them giving me a hug on their way out. It occurred to me that I'd probably not had as many hugs in my entire life prior to Thedas as I had in the couple of months since. I'd begun to take it for granted, even, which was an amazing thought.

Wynne decided to go to the market, and after some assurances from me, Alistair agreed to accompany her; I decided I'd stay at the Pearl and write some letters. He made me promise not to leave without him, and as sweet as it was, it irritated me a little. When I sniped at him and called him 'father', he backed off and apologised for being condescending. I forgave him immediately – _those damn puppy dog eyes!_ – but decided to milk it a little first. I grumbled some more, until he volunteered some payback.

"If you'll forgive me, I promise I will do anything you ask for the rest of the day after I get back."

I grinned, mind spinning. "Anything?"

He actually looked a little bit frightened, but nodded anyway. I grinned lasciviously. "Done." I leaned in to kiss him softly. "Hurry back."

I winked and he blanched before hurrying off to meet Wynne.

I wandered down to the main room of the Pearl and found Sanga, as always, standing near the bar. I had to say she looked like the least likely Madam I could imagine – clean, neatly dressed, and just a little bit matronly. She was probably five years older than me. I tried to imagine her as a prostitute and just couldn't do it. I figured it would be rude to ask, so I just tried not to think about it anymore.

I bought some parchment and a quill pen and ink, and when I told her I'd never used a quill pen, she gave me a strange look but also gifted me some parchment scraps to practice writing on and some blotting sand in a little bag, which was apparently to keep the ink from smudging. I also got some sealing wax. I took my finds back to the private dining room and began to practice what was essentially calligraphy. It wasn't going to be neat – I kept accidentally turning the quill, making the tip vary in width so my letters looked like they were scrawled by a drunk third grader, but it was legible. I figured out the sand – sprinkle it on the words, then roll the parchment and pour the sand back into the bag – and the sealing wax was easy, though I didn't have a ring or anything with which to make an impression.

The first letter flowed fairly easily.

My Lord Nathaniel Howe,

I don't know if this letter will reach you in time, but I hold out hope. You don't know me, though I know much about you. I know you're an honourable man, which is the most important thing for my purposes.

I can't word it any better; your father has gone mad. He is power-hungry and ruthless. You may have heard that he took Highever Castle; the part you won't have heard is that his excuse for doing so, the supposed treachery of the Couslands, was invented by him to justify his actions to the Landsmeet. There is no proof, as there couldn't be; the Couslands were no traitors. You probably also did not hear how he had everyone in the castle slaughtered, including defenseless children and servants, because he could not allow anyone to survive and be questioned.

He has also imprisoned and tortured nobles and Templars alike, and has even set up his new Denerim Estate bedroom with a private entrance to the dungeon so he can be more intimately…involved…with the torture. He now claims the titles not only to his Arling, but also Teyrn of Highever and Arl of Denerim. No one man should have so many noble titles; you know this, I think.

I know you have no reason to believe me, and I don't require you to; all I ask is that you come and see for yourself. I am hopeful that you can help to resolve this, and perhaps even keep your family name from being completely blackened. Please, come and see what he has done, what he has become. Then you can decide what is right.

Maker watch over you,

Sierra Jones

I re-read the letter multiple times, and then put it aside to show Alistair (and Aedan, if he would read it). The next letter required a bit more thought. I knew I couldn't save everyone, but I had to try.

Dear Varric,

You don't know me, and we will probably never meet, though I could wish it were otherwise. I am writing to you with a rather unbelievable story, but I am hoping that I can somehow make you believe it. The lives and happiness of several people you will come to meet and care about depend on it.

I am something of a seer, and I have seen some aspects of the future involving yourself and those around you. I do not know why, all I can do is try to prevent some of the tragedy I have foreseen.

I know that you are planning a Deep Roads Expedition with your brother, Bartrand. I would try to discourage it, but I know it is unlikely you will listen. I hope, then, that I can convince you to at least take some precautions when you do.

The first is: do not touch the red Lyrium, and especially not the idol you will find. And definitely do not allow Bartrand to touch it. Red Lyrium causes insanity, and that idol will cause the death of many, many people. Bartrand will go mad, and in his madness, will try to trap you in the Deep Roads so he does not have to share his treasure. Search your heart; you know he's capable of doing it.

The second is: do not go on the expedition without the Grey Warden mage who will provide the maps you need. There are darkspawn in the Deep Roads, and if someone becomes tainted, he is their only hope for a cure.

You will meet someone, in a year or so, who will agree to be part of the expedition. Her name is Hawke. She will have a startling menagerie of companions, and you will become one as well. I do not know if either of her siblings survived to arrive in Kirkwall. If they did, I beg you to have her send them, and her mother Leandra, away. Anywhere other than Kirkwall will do. If they stay, she will lose everyone. Kirkwall will need Hawke, but if her family stays, there will be only tragedy. Her siblings, if they have survived this far, will either die, end up as Grey Wardens, or end up in the Circle as either Templar or mage; and her mother will be targeted by an insane blood mage and killed. The only way I know for her to keep them safe is to send them far away. Show her this letter, if you think it will help. Her family can return to Ferelden, and if they seek out the Grey Wardens here, I will attempt to ensure they receive whatever aid they require.

Tell Fenris his sister has been blackmailed into setting a trap for him. It's not her fault. Oh, and tell Merrill to leave the damn mirror alone. She will know what I am talking about. If she persists, her clan will perish. The ones she wishes to save are already dead, and nothing can be done to bring either of them back. Get Hawke to talk to her, if she won't listen to you.

I hope that this…decreases the tragedy you will witness over the next ten years. If you ever make it to Ferelden, seek me out with the Grey Wardens. I am not one, but I travel with some.

Maker watch over you.

Sierra Jones

I debated writing a letter specifically to Hawke, and decided to leave it until after the Blight was over. Perhaps I could even convince Anders to take it…_oh bloody hell, Anders. What am I going to do about that? A problem for another day._

I still had some parchment left, so I began to make some lists. I started a small list of items we needed to buy before we left Denerim. I also made a list of odd things about my situation; for the first time since I arrived, I had time to really think about all of the things that didn't make sense about my presence here.

_Let me think_. First, and most obvious – how? How did I get here, and how did my mind get to Earth in the first place if I was really meant to be born a Cousland? Where did my mind find a body to inhabit on Earth? What happened to the original occupant? Had I kicked someone else out of that body? I had to leave that one blank; I had absolutely no idea, and no amount of thinking helped.

Secondly, things that happen to my body in Thedas were mimicked on Earth. If I cut myself in Thedas, my body back there had a cut. If I got a tattoo, it showed up there. But the reverse was not – always – true. My broken nose, my losing my virginity, and my excess weight didn't translate to Thedas. But my laser hair removal and lack of periods did. _How does that even make sense?_ Still no idea. And how was I able to bring items with me in my pockets, some of which persisted in Thedas even after I was dragged back? _Moving right along…_

Third, what happened to my Thedas body when I was back on Earth? My Earth body stayed put wherever it was when I popped over, but the body here disappeared completely. Along those lines, what happened to the body of the baby that was born here with no soul, or mind? Had it died? If not, what had Aedan's parents done with it?

Fourth, why were the intervals that I spent in Thedas increasing, and why would being upset seem to trigger me going back to Earth?

There was the obvious templar thing. How does a person from Earth with no training whatsoever suddenly end up a templar? And why do templar powers here cause electrical blackouts on Earth?

And then there was the fact that to darkspawn, I was completely invisible until I attacked them. Demons, undead, and bandits had no trouble, but somehow I was a black hole around darkspawn. How was that possible? And why me?

In addition, how the heck had David Gaider known enough about Thedas to make a video game that detailed and accurate? Had he been to Thedas as well?

At the end of my list, all I had were questions, and no possible answers. I was frustrated, and no further along than when I'd started.

I jumped and hurried to cover my lists and letters with a blank piece of parchment when I heard the door behind me opening. Sanga came in with a plate of roasted pheasant, some sort of potato thing, and some fresh fruit. I hadn't even realised it was already lunchtime. I ate alone, staring at my lists again, without any further progress. When I'd finished eating, I gathered up my papers and headed back up to my room and took yet another nap.

* * *

A/N:

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. Many thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande for their fabulous beta skills.

It seems like summer has been slow for hits and for reviews...so please, please, tell me what you think! My need for external validation has not yet gone away ;)

Reviews:

AnnabelleHawke022812: Thank you! I like Sierra, she's very different from me and it's fun to write. I am not quite so protective of my sibs' sex lives, so I'd probably go with a smack upside the head and leave it at that...especially as Sierra doesn't know that Aedan actually initiated things ;) Poor Sierra meant well, but probably just succeeded in creeping Isabela out LOL. I agree about the crazy monkey sex. Fun, but not necessarily story-driven ;)

Ioialoha: Yeah, Aedan...he is going to have a strange view on sex, I suppose ;)

Flower248: In my head, Zev has adopted Sierra as his sister, or maybe sister-in-law. And he is good to 'his people' :) He is a big sweety, overall. Sierra hasn't popped back in about a month, game time...but no, she hasn't stabilised. No spoilers!

Enchantm3nt: I just could so see Alistair freaking out over the word vagina. Sierra's got a few others in mind to spring on him at a later date ;) Sierra's not quite as overprotective of Aedan as he is of her, but I don't see her getting in a big conversation about his sex life. There's such a thing as too much information ;) I don't see Sierra knowing much about Inquisition, but depending on where I am in writing, and how screwed up I've made the storyline, I may continue the story through DA:I.

And thanks to: brandischoch, ShellyGamerGal, and Emily Cousland (Guest) for their reviews as well!


	5. Chapter 48: Overprotection

**Chapter Forty-Eight: Overprotection**

When I woke, Alistair was creeping into the room, and I startled him when I sat up. Laughing and clutching his chest, he lit a couple more candles and came in. I helped him off with his breastplate – I could barely lift the thing, so it was a bit difficult for him to take off alone, though I knew he could manage. He told me he and Wynne had wandered the market, and he thought he had located Gorim for me. He promised to take me there with Aedan the following morning. Otherwise, Wynne had bought a few things, they had browsed the Wonders of Thedas, and then eaten lunch and come back.

"We went one other place while we were out."

"Oh?"

"You never mentioned that Goldanna was a gold-digging harridan." His tone was light, but his expression was irritated.

I sighed. "Oh, Alistair. I didn't want you to know. I figured since she wasn't actually your sister that you wouldn't have to meet her and be exposed to her shrewishness. I hoped you could keep vaguely happy memories of believing you had a sister. I'm sorry." I suddenly worried I'd have to choose whether to 'harden' him, until I realised that in this altered history, he didn't need it. He was much more confident, had less survivor's guilt, and didn't have that same urge to sacrifice himself for a cause. He wouldn't need to take the throne; he didn't need encouragement to be more selfish. I smiled.

I reached out and took his hand, and he let me. "I should have told you."

He squeezed my hand and smiled softly at me. "I love you. But would you stop trying to protect me?"

"Never. Dare I ask how much coin you gave her?"

"None, actually. You should have seen Wynne when she started moaning about mouths to feed. Besides, I didn't have that much coin on me. I left most of it here, and then between buying Wynne's supplies, and…well, anyway I didn't give her anything."

He was blushing as I encouraged him to lay down and cuddle with me on the bed, and I wondered what he wasn't saying, until he dropped a small box onto the bed between us.

"I bought you something."

"You did? Why? I mean, thank you! That sounded really ungrateful. But is there some special occasion I'm missing?"

He chuckled. "Not at all. I just wanted to."

I picked up the box nervously. "No one has ever bought me anything for no reason before."

"All the more reason for me to do it now."

I leaned in and kissed him, and then turned back to the box. Inside was a delicate silver rose pendant, complete with thorns on the stem, on a sturdy but beautiful silver chain. I stared at it, shocked. It almost exactly matched my tattoo on my Earth body. It was amazing.

I looked up to see him looking a bit anxious. "Alistair, it's…it's gorgeous! I love it. Where did you find something so beautiful?"

"There was a silversmith in the market. I saw it yesterday and had him put the clasp on it and put it on a chain. I just thought it could be like…a reminder." We shared a smile, thinking back a few weeks to when he'd given me the rose.

"I don't need a reminder, I still have that rose. It's still perfectly preserved. But I love this. It is beautiful, and you are sweet." I pulled him into a deeper kiss, then finally sat up and lifted my hair so he could put the chain around my neck. It nestled perfectly into the hollow of my throat. He stroked it with his fingers as he kissed me again, and I purred.

Pulling away once we were both breathless, he gestured to the mess of papers I had scattered on the table near the door. I reached over and grabbed them, showing them to Alistair. He read my letters, asking me more questions about Hawke and her companions in Kirkwall. I told him as much of the story as I could remember, though my memory of the second Dragon Age game was somewhat hazy – I'd only ever played it through once, and it hadn't held the same appeal as the first. But I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least try to avert some of the tragedy. I avoided telling him about Anders and Justice. I wasn't sure why, but it felt like another one of those secrets that weren't mine to tell.

"Do you think Howe's son will really come back?"

"I'm not even sure I can get the letter to him. Just a name, with the address being 'the Free Marches' isn't terribly specific. And I'm not sure he could do anything if he did come back. But if he doesn't, and Aedan kills Howe, which he will, he will try to kill Aedan. I'd rather avoid that, if I can. Nate's not a bad guy. I want him to understand why his father has to pay for his actions."

He hugged me again, and then we turned to my list of weird things about Sierra. He didn't have any other ideas, but just the fact that I'd shared it with him and he hadn't run away was comforting. We lay together and just cuddled for a bit more of the afternoon before heading to the dining room together for supper. Aedan, Zev and Leli were waiting for us, all freshly bathed, and Wynne as usual had her nose buried in a book. I stepped over to her to give her an appreciative hug for protecting Alistair from Goldanna for me, and she smiled and patted my shoulder.

While we ate supper, Aedan told us about the guard schedule and floor plan information they'd managed to glean from the house Marjolaine was staying in. Zev had snuck up to peek through the windows, and they had taken turns watching the place all day. It was on the edge of the market district, pretty upscale, really, and quite well guarded, though they'd found a few holes in the security to exploit. They planned to take her down the following afternoon, when the guards switched and one usually left to get the others their meals.

That was when the fight began.

Aedan insisted that I stay at the Pearl while they took care of Marjolaine. Leliana and Alistair agreed, to my annoyance.

"Sierra, you know how you feel about fighting people. If you go in there, at minimum you're going to have to watch us do it, and if things go poorly you may even have to fight. I don't want your guilt on my hands."

"Aedan, you're going to be facing at least two mages in there. Alistair can't handle both, and besides he'll be busy swinging that big shield of his around. I can stay out of the melee, but at least let me neutralize one of the mages. I promise I'll leave once it's done. But I'm not staying here to worry about you all when I could help. It's bad enough when you guys are doing Chanter's board stuff or working with Sergeant Kylon."

"Sierra…"

"Forget it, Aedan."

Leliana, in desperation, tried to drag Zevran into it. "You haven't chimed in yet, what do you think, Zev? Sierra should stay here and be safe, no?"

"I don't know about that, oh most beauteous bard."

I gave him a grateful smile, but Aedan gave an indignant squawk and I knew there would be problems between them later. I tried to save Zev from himself, but he just kept talking.

"Things are only going to get more difficult from here. Between Loghain, and Howe, and the dwarves, and miles of Deep Road…it can't but help to have Sierra actually battle-ready, since you have said it's impossible to leave her behind. I think she needs to be given a chance, in a real fight. Even if she just stands back and neutralizes a mage. It's not that we can't do it without her – we are ridiculously awesome, after all – but we shouldn't."

I was impressed at his succinct summary of the situation. And of course, he was right; they wouldn't always be able to protect me. Not that I was some sort of blood-thirsty idiot; I was still nauseous when I thought about trying to actually stab a real person with my daggers, but if I was going to be stuck in this world – if I wanted to be stuck in this world – I had to learn to live in it.

Alistair had the good sense to keep his mouth shut during the discussion. I knew he'd want me to stay out of it, but he knew better than to openly say it, at least where I could hear.

"Aedan. Stop protecting me. You have to let me live, too. I'll stay in the next room. But I'm coming."

Very reluctantly he nodded, and I sighed. _Big brothers can be a total pain in the ass!_ I smiled.

"So we go meet Gorim in the morning, Marjolaine in the afternoon…maybe drop by and see how Wade is coming with our armour in between?"

Everyone agreed. Dinner finished, Wynne decided to stay and read. Leliana planned to go play some more music in the common room – apparently Sanga had even offered to pay her to do it; Aedan and Zevran made noises about going to their room, but given they were the only ones still in armour, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that they were going skulking around the city. I worried, but knew there was nothing I could do. And of everyone I'd ever met, those two could take care of themselves.

Alistair and I were left, and we decided to head to our room. I think he realised I needed a distraction from worrying about Aedan. He kissed my neck while I unlocked the door, and I tried to relax. We were still in that slightly awkward stage where we knew we wanted each other naked at every possible opportunity, but were too embarrassed to just go ahead and do it, so we stood looking at each other and avoiding eye contact for a painful few moments. Finally I cleared my throat, desire winning over fear.

"So. You said that you would do anything I asked. Did I hear that right? Anything?" I smiled a smug, wicked grin.

Alistair's pout was cute. "Yes, I did. I get the feeling I'm going to regret that, though. Am I?"

My grin widened. "No, I don't think you will." I moved close to him, and then went up on tiptoes and whispered in his ear. "What I'm going to ask of you is easy. All I want you to do is just stand still. You can do that, right? Just don't move unless I specifically ask you to. Easy."

His quiet groan sent a bolt of desire shooting through me. _This is going to be fun_. I positioned him, standing in the middle of the room, feet slightly spread. He crossed his arms, somewhat self-conscious, but I reached out and made him drop them. I spent a few moments just walking around him, in a circle, admiring my prize. As always, I was struck by how unbelievably gorgeous he was. Part of me wanted to rush it, to have him take me and push me down onto the bed, but I resisted. I was planning on making this night special. He fidgeted slightly as I stared at him.

"Tsk, tsk. Already moving? You keep doing that and I'll have to find a way to punish you." My naughty grin made him groan again. I could see the bulge in the front of his trousers and licked my lips lasciviously.

Done staring, I moved closer, reaching one hand out to trail a finger across one of his collar bones and down the centre of his chest lightly. His jaw clenched, but otherwise he held still, so I added my other hand. Systematically I stroked his chest, his shoulders, his back, his firm stomach. I kept my touch light, teasing, and watched him struggle not to thrash when I tickled somewhere sensitive. I verbalised a commentary of what I was doing, describing each tantalising body part as I touched it.

He opened his mouth to reply, but I silenced him with a finger and a look. Moving around to his front, I leaned in close and licked his neck softly. I slowly unbuttoned the shirt, pulling it back to kiss and lick the newly bared skin with each step. Finally the shirt was open completely, and I pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to puddle at his feet.

His upper body was cut, not like the body builders from Earth but almost. He had firm, ropey muscles running across his shoulders, down his biceps and his chest. Now bare, I ran my fingers across them again, following behind with my lips and tongue. I teased him with soft licks and kisses, ran my fingers through his sparse blond chest hair, and enjoyed the feeling of his muscles tensing where I touched. Happy with my examination of his chest, I moved behind him and did the same with his back and shoulder blades. His breath came a little more shallowly as I licked and kissed the points of his shoulder blades and traced his spine with my fingers.

Moving back in front of him, I looked up to meet his gaze as I slowly leaned forward and licked a nipple. He gasped and twitched slightly, and I grinned and did it again, then switched sides. I'd never paid much attention to the little firm bumps before, and they were apparently extremely sensitive. The bulge I could feel now against my belly enlarged and pulsed slightly with every tongue swipe. Curious, I sucked on one nipple and gently allowed my teeth to close over it; I was rewarded with a hiss and him losing control enough to raise him arms before catching himself and lowering them to his sides, fists now clenched as well. His next breath was ragged, and I repeated the motion on the other nipple with much the same effect.

Unable to wait anymore, I slipped around behind him again. Moving quietly, I grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head; my bra shortly joined it on the floor, and I moved closer to Alistair, my arms encircling his waist from behind, and I pressed my breasts against his bare back. When he groaned I knew he could feel my nipples on his skin, and I spent a few moments teasing us both by rubbing them against him. Kissing his back, I reached down and slowly unlaced the front of his trousers. My fingers bumped against his erection, and it throbbed in response. I chuckled darkly, my voice hoarse with arousal.

Laces undone, I slowly eased his trousers off his hips. I slid down his back, keeping my skin in contact with his, kissing his back as I sank. My nipples scraped down his bare skin until they came into contact with his smallclothes, my mouth still licking and kissing his lower back. Once on my knees, I sat back a bit and pushed his trousers the rest of the way down, demanding he lift each foot in turn so I could throw them into the pile with the rest of our clothes. I ran my hands down his thighs, tense with arousal, the muscles standing out. I kissed the skin just above the band of his smallclothes, and he muttered a curse under his breath. In punishment, I opened my mouth and took a small bite of the skin on his ass through the thin fabric. He gasped and jerked, so I gripped his hips and did it again on the other side. The single curse became a string of prayers and curse words all jumbled together, and I smiled smugly at my accomplishment.

I trailed my lips down the back of one thigh, then licked the sensitive skin behind his knee; he almost fell as he jumped, and I grinned and repeated it on the other side. Satisfied, I stood and moved around to his front. His eyes were dark with desire, pupils enormous, and his gaze raked across my nearly naked body. I wriggled out of my panties, struggling against my shyness to expose myself totally to him. I stepped up to his front, again teasing his skin with the hard points of my nipples, and we both moaned softly. I pulled his head down for an intense kiss, then released him to slap his eager hands away.

"Now now, not so fast! I'm not done with you."

He groaned again, which switched to a gasp as he felt my fingers slip inside the waistband of his smalls. I gently peeled them away from his throbbing erection, allowing them to slide down his legs, finally leaving him naked. I licked my lips as I stared at the firm pole of glistening flesh that was pointing at me. I slowly sank to my knees again, feeling him shudder as his length was briefly captured in the valley between my breasts. I kissed down his belly then detoured to gently bite into the skin of his hip, triggering another gasp. My hands stroked the front of his thighs, and I could feel him trembling.

I leaned back and examined his erection, his crown purple, foreskin already pulled back, slit oozing clear fluid. His heavy sac was hanging underneath, light fuzz obscuring nothing. I licked my lips again, then, bracing my hands on his thighs, leaned forward to dart my tongue out and taste the clear fluid. I contemplated the taste for a moment – salty, as expected, but not unpleasant – and then tried again. Alistair's legs were trembling more.

"Sierra…Maker, what are you doing to me?" He gasped and I grinned as I licked all the way from the base to the tip of his length, then lifted one hand to cup his sac as I did it again. The trembling increased, and I could read agonised arousal on his face as my tongue lightly stimulated him. Finally taking pity on him, I engulfed the head with my mouth, my tongue darting around the tip, one hand still massaging his sac while the other came to grip his shaft. I knew I wasn't getting much more than that in my mouth – he was large, and contrary to at least one foster mother's belief, my mouth wasn't – so I used my hand to slowly stroke the exposed length. I hollowed out my cheeks, sucking softly, loving the sounds I was pulling from him as I did. His stream of prayers and curses resumed as I sucked, licked, and stroked, and I felt his sac pull up against his body as he prepared to orgasm. I stopped, letting his cock pop out from between my lips with a sucking sound, and gently squeezed the base of his shaft until I could feel the urge had passed.

He groaned in dismay, and I smirked evilly at him. "That's for moving when you weren't supposed to."

I leaned in to start again, lips and tongue stimulating the engorged head as my hands resumed their gentle stroking. I could feel him trying to resist, but before long he was subtly thrusting his hips and groaning incoherently. Again I stopped, and he cried out in disappointment. His breath stuttered as he panted with need, his face a gorgeous mix of passion and agony, and I finally smiled.

"Okay, Alistair. Come on, then." I met his gaze as I engulfed his erection again, and this time I had no intention of stopping. I sucked and stroked, and his legs shook, and his hands came up to touch my cheek and my hair, for which I forgave him. He didn't grab me or try to control my movements, and I was grateful. I tried to express my love for him through my eyes as the rest of me tried to give him release. He whispered, warningly, and I shrugged off his weak attempt to push me away, and then he shouted my name as he came, explosively, in my willing mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could, barely able to keep up with the onslaught. Finally, it seemed he was done, and he slumped forward and braced himself on my shoulders. I gave one last suck, one last stroke, and then slowly released his now overly sensitive, rapidly deflating package.

He groaned, voice husky, as he caught his breath and I stood up. He pulled me into him, crushing me into a tight embrace. I smiled and cuddled into his chest.

"You know, I didn't say you could move yet."

"Oh, to the Void with that!" He reached down, scooped me up, and tossed me across the room onto the bed. The massive frame creaked and groaned under the sudden assault, and for a brief moment I thought I might be dumped onto the floor. Finally the frame stabilised, and Alistair climbed into the bed with me.

* * *

A/N:

Please review! I live to hear what people think. Don't make me beg!

I don't own Dragon Age. Many thanks to Melysande and Kira Tamarion for their fabulous beta skills, without whom this would not be as polished.

Reviews:

Pervinca T: Yeah, poor Ali. It's gotta be a bit nerve-wracking, wondering if your girlfriend will up and disappear. Especially in the middle of some good nooky! Ooh, now there's an idea...And thanks for the warning about the formatting. It was supposed to be in italics and indented, but somehow that just didn't work. I've no idea why.

AnnabelleHawke022812: Well, if I can make someone blush, then I know I'm doing it right. As for Anders...no spoilers ;)

Enchantm3nt: Yeah I could handle a dominant, overprotective Alistair at times...yum :) The answers will come with time, have no fear. But no spoilers! ;)

Dur'id the Druid: All three bear the name Hawke, but only one is called that by everyone in Kirkwall. Varric can figure it out :)

Flower248: Yeah, wouldn't it be nice if Nate didn't have to be a total arse at the beginning? :)

ex-ellent: All good questions. No spoilers! I'm actually not entirely clear how the entire Orzammar debacle will go. Some of it, yes, but these characters sometimes refuse to do what I tell them to. So I guess we will have to see :)

FloridaMagpie: Glad I could talk you into trying it! I am a total Alistair fangirl, and these few chapters definitely highlight that, but I'm trying not to make the entire story all about that. Mostly.

DoorbellSpider: Happy to amuse! :)

brandischoch: Yeah, not a lot of easy decisions to be made. Hopefully Sierra can make Hawke's life a little easier tho!

Cly1978: Don't we all wish for a little more AListair in our lives? Don't tell my husband I said that...

Guest: Yeah, all sorts of interesting questions about the dual body scenario. Sierra's just as curious as you!

ShellyGamerGal: I read another fic a while back that talked about herbs for men for birth control, and it made a lot of sense in Thedas. Might explain that surprising lack of bastards running around, if nothing else...On Earth, I'm quite happy to have contraception firmly in my own control, though, thank you :)

And thanks to Judy (Guest) for the review as well!


	6. Chapter 49: Untold Story

**Chapter Forty-Nine: Untold story**

He sprawled onto his back, and I curled up against his broad chest, pulling the covers up over us both. I was shivering slightly, uncertain whether it was just the chill or also the pent up arousal. Alistair rolled towards me, wrapping me in his arms.

"So that was…intense," he started.

I laughed. "That was sort of the point, yes."

"But I…we…why?"

"Tonight was about you, love. I can only tell you how overwhelmingly attractive you are so many times; I thought, this time, that I'd prove it."

He blushed. "It seemed more like it was about…you showing me who was in charge."

"Merely a side benefit, I promise." I grinned, and he chuckled.

"Well, you know that normally I have no trouble letting someone else lead. Especially someone so beautiful." He leaned in and kissed me, and I moaned. _Yep, definitely the arousal, not the cold._ He pulled away and grinned. "You don't have to go to extraordinary lengths to get me to follow you."

I smiled softly. "You know, that's a load of crap. You're a lot more competent – and confidant – than you let on. You lead when you need to, and you're good at it."

His eyes crinkled in amusement at my Earth words. "Don't tell anyone else that! Maker, they might try to get me to lead more often!" I giggled. "Speaking of, I've been incredibly selfish. And there's something I've wanted to try, if I may."

I'd have responded, but his mouth closed over mine just as his hand weaved its way into my hair, and he shifted us so he lay on top of me, his knees between mine supporting most of his weight. I lifted my legs, bending both knees, expecting him to push forward and enter me; I hadn't checked, but if prior experience was anything to go by, he would be ready again. Instead, to my surprise, he released my mouth and began kissing his way down my jaw to my throat. I moaned softly, enjoying the attention but too over-stimulated already to need it.

I wriggled my hips, brushing against his length. "Please don't tease, just-"

He interrupted me with a finger on my lips, and then went back to kissing his way down my neck. I expected him to linger at my breasts for a while – like most men I'd met, he seemed fascinated by those two little bumps – but this time after a few moments he continued further down to lick and kiss my flat stomach. My breath caught when I realised what he had planned. I tried to tell him he didn't need to do that, and he ignored me entirely. And then he pressed my thighs firmly out to the side, and I stopped talking as his mouth descended to my sex.

I'd never seen anything as sexy in my life as Alistair, prone, my legs over his shoulders, his tongue out and lapping at the moisture dripping from my folds. It felt incredible, as he explored me more intimately, and I shrieked as he added two fingers into my canal as he licked me. I could feel one of his hands holding my writhing hips down, and I clung to it for dear life. He clamped his lips around my little button and sucked hard; white light exploded behind my eyelids as I came, chanting his name.

And then he was in me, and I could taste myself on his lips as he kissed me, and I whimpered as he thrust furiously, prolonging my orgasm until I felt him spill inside me again. I clung to him and he held me as we both panted our recovery.

"Maker, at some point isn't this insatiable…need supposed to ease off?" His face was pink, I wasn't sure if from exertion or embarrassment.

"Not yet, apparently." I grinned and kissed him softly, then cuddled into his side as we rearranged ourselves and fell asleep.

The next morning, I wasn't as stiff or sore, and I virtually scampered to the bathing room. Alistair groaned and rolled over, so I let him sleep. I knew my desire for daily bathing was considered strange, and it wasn't like Alistair stank or anything, so I could keep my weird issues to myself. I noticed for the first time that the tubs had a large drain underneath that led to some sort of pipe to drain the water without having to carry it out in buckets. It gave me ideas, and I decided if I was going to be able to stay in Ferelden, I was going to invent at least rudimentary plumbing. _After the Blight._

I dressed in my armour, for the first time since coming to Denerim, minus one bracer that I hoped to pick up at Wade's at some point. Breakfast was a quick affair of scones and porridge and jerky. Aedan was acting normally, even smiling and joking as Leli and Zev teased Alistair and me for keeping people awake again. I was relieved – I hadn't been looking forward to dealing with my brother's overprotective streak. Once we finished, Alistair, Aedan, Zevran and I headed out with Prince in tow. We agreed to meet Leli and Wynne at the Gnawed Noble for lunch, so the four of us had the morning to ourselves. It took us a bit to make our way to the market, avoiding other groups of armed people as much as possible, and then we were finally there. We wore full helmets, which I found totally uncomfortable, but it would have looked weird if the boys did and I didn't, so I sucked it up.

We were there early enough that it wasn't busy yet; we got a good chance to look around at the various merchants setting up shop. Alistair led us to where he thought he'd seen Gorim, and suddenly there he was. _Red hair, thick braided beard, pissed off expression – yeah, that's him._ We waited until another customer left, and then approached the dwarf's stall. There was a variety of weaponry and armour on display, and Aedan made a show of examining some of it. When Gorim caught sight of the four of us, his face clouded over and his scowl became huge.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not 'hiring' any of you sodding nug-humpers. You'd better come back with more men if you intend to challenge that." He was hefting a rather large war axe as he spoke. He was strongly favouring one leg as he stood there, but he still looked menacing with the weapon in his hand. I'd sort of forgotten he was a warrior; there was no question he knew what to do with the heavy axe.

I winced; it hadn't occurred to me what four armed and armoured people approaching him would look like under these circumstances. I stepped forward and reached up to take off my helmet; Alistair put his hand on my shoulder, and I saw Aedan tense, but it wasn't as though anyone in Denerim knew who I was. I gave them reassuring smiles and turned back.

"You misunderstand, ser. We are not mercenaries. We are not here collecting coin."

He looked skeptical, but gave me a big, false smile. "Well in that case, what are you interested in, milady? I've got dwarven arms and armour, straight from Orzammar."

"I'm sure we will take a look, but listen, we aren't here for that." I glanced around, making sure no one seemed to be watching; the three men all chose random display items to appear to be examining. I lowered my voice. "I know who you are, Gorim. And I know why you left Orzammar. These men are Grey Wardens, and I was hoping we could talk to you about the…situation, in Orzammar. Things have changed since you left. Endrin is dead, and the Assembly are dead-locked between Bhelen and Harrowmont. I was hoping you could offer us some insight into the politics we will be walking into when we go there."

I couldn't miss the flash of hope that crossed his face when I mentioned the Wardens, but it was quickly covered by skepticism and despair.

"Grey Wardens, you say? Rumour is, they're the ones who betrayed the King. I have a hard time believing they'd advertise their presence here."

I heard Aedan and Alistair shift, and quickly gestured them down.

"I know, Gorim. There's only a couple of them left, though, and they need all the help they can get. And think about it. You know more about Wardens than any Fereldan – would they actually betray a King, let the darkspawn win? Do you seriously believe that? We came to you because I told them you can be trusted."

"And how, exactly, do you know that? Maybe I'll turn you in myself for the bounty. I'm a surfacer now, I could use the coin."

"I don't believe it for a moment. You may have left Orzammar, but you haven't abandoned your honour. Sereda believed in you, and so do I, Gorim."

His face coloured at the mention of Sereda. "You know nothing, human. You-"

I cut him off. "I know she loved you. I know you tried to sway the decision to have her sent to the Deep Roads. I know you'd have gone to the Deep Roads with her, if they'd have let you. I know that they may be able to take you away from the stone, but they can't take the stone away from you all the same. And if you cared about her at all, you would want to tell us anything you could to prevent that traitor, Bhelen, from ascending the throne, and help us keep Orzammar strong with Harrowmont, unless you have a better idea? Orzammar needs you. I think she'd want you to help us."

He stared at me for a while, then switched his gaze to the armoured men with me. I don't know what he thought he'd see with them in full helmets, but he spent a few moments on each. Finally he returned to me.

"You sure you're a Grey Warden? Should have been a Deshyr. Maybe they'd make you Queen if you asked them nice enough."

I laughed, and he cracked a small, brief but genuine smile. "I'm not. They are. I guess I'm a…helper."

"I will talk to you. But not here. I have a house in this district. I'll give you directions. Come for supper; my wife will want to hear this."

I was stunned – wife? I'd never finished the game as a dwarf, so I supposed maybe if I'd played the Aeducan I'd have known that, but…wife? I thought he loved Sereda? I shook my head. _Well I'm going to assume he isn't coming with us to Orzammar, then…_I hoped he would have some information of use, regardless.

He and Aedan discussed directions and time – I had enough trouble figuring out morning or afternoon, nevermind specifics. And Aedan at least generally knew his way around Denerim. Once satisfied, he bought me a new dagger from Gorim's stock, as an excuse for us spending so much time standing there, and then we left.

It was still early, so we dropped into Wade's shop and picked up our repaired and newly made armour. Wade preened under the effusive praise as Aedan, Zev, and Alistair put on their new, fancy armour, and I had to admit it all looked quite impressive. Aedan paid for the spare pants for Leli, deciding just to let her keep them rather than have to bring them back later; I allowed the newly adjusted straps to be fitted onto my chest piece, and laced my bracer back into place.

Wade again refused pay for the work he'd done, though while he was adjusting Alistair's armour I noticed that Aedan had disappeared briefly. I guessed that the couple would find some gold tucked some place interesting later, and I grinned at Aedan when he returned. Gifting Wade Aedan's and Zevran's old armour, we took our leave to meet Wynne and Leliana at the Gnawed Noble.

As we walked across the market, I asked. "Aedan? How do you even know what time it is?"

He stopped and looked at me. "The sun? And the bells from the Chantry. How do you figure it out, back home?"

"We had watches. And phones. And clocks. They were-"

He cut me off. "Machines. Right, should have known." He grinned and I laughed.

We entered the Gnawed Noble, Aedan arranging a private room for us to eat lunch, so they could all take their helmets off without risk. The food, while good, was no better than that at the Pearl. Once we were done, we all geared up and headed out.

The plan was for Alistair and Prince to go in first, with Aedan and Zev stealthing in on his heels, followed by Leli and Wynne, and me at the back, staying out of sight as much as possible. Alistair and I agreed that he'd take the mage on the right and I'd take the left, assuming there were actually two. We waited around the corner as Aedan watched the guards, until he saw the one leave to go get food for the others, and we moved fast once he motioned us forward. He incapacitated the one guard standing outside, and then we were in.

The fighting was bloody, and as much as I was bothered by it, I made myself watch. I could probably have talked Leliana out of coming here, if I'd tried; I knew this had to be done, but I deserved to have to live with the consequences of that decision. And I couldn't afford to be caught by surprise and injured, or Aedan would try to lock me in a bubble somewhere afterwards. There were a couple of fights before we reached Marjolaine, and by the slight widening of the dark-haired woman's eyes, she hadn't missed the fresh blood dripping off of our weapons when we entered.

She had the expected conversation with Leli, though I was pleased to note Leliana seemed more confidant when she spoke than she had in game. Leli refused to accept anything Marjolaine said, and so of course there was no way out but a fight.

I felt vindicated when a couple of mages joined, and quickly neutralized the mana of the one on the left, while I felt Alistair do the same on the right. I used the mana to put shields on my friends, so Wynne didn't even need to heal. I had hoped that some of the mercenaries would surrender once Marjolaine died, and I wasn't disappointed. Aedan pulled them aside, had some quick words, then sent them on their way. I assumed he was threatening them to prevent them from joining the gangs that now seemed to be running much of the city.

The mages, on the other hand, would not submit even with no mana and held at sword-point. They feared we would turn them over to the Chantry, and claimed they'd rather die than become Tranquil, which I could understand. Truly, I was torn – as much as I abhorred how mages were treated in Thedas, a couple of mercenary, possible blood mages running free didn't sit well either. In the end, Aedan was forced to kill them, and I could see from his expression that he didn't enjoy it. Leliana took off, heading back to the Pearl, and Wynne went with her; the rest of us looted the various items of value from Marjolaine's house and followed them.

After we had all cleaned up – Alistair and I bathing separately so as to save time – Aedan, Alistair, Zev and I geared back up and headed out to Gorim's. Wynne decided to accompany us, so Leliana came as well. The house we came to was small but immaculately well-kept, with flowers in boxes by the front door, the wood obviously freshly painted. Aedan knocked, and the tiniest person I had ever seen answered the door. It was a child, a dwarven child, and the little one was close to the size of a human toddler, though by his speech he must have been at least five. Although it occurred to me I had absolutely no idea how long dwarves lived or how fast they matured, so I couldn't be sure of that. A young, pretty, vastly pregnant dwarven woman came up behind him, obviously his mother based on the family resemblance. She spoke softly, welcoming us in, but her eyes got rather large when she spotted Prince; Aedan asked him to stay outside, and he whined but settle down on the doorstep.

She introduced herself as Riana. She had no facial tattoo, I noticed, so she hadn't been casteless at any point. She had long brown hair, tied loosely into a bun, and had she been human I'd have put her age in her late twenties. We all took off our helmets, leaving them near the door, and she brought us into the kitchen, which had a long low table capable of accommodating probably ten people, and offered us drinks, which no one accepted.

The house was homey, and the smell from the oven heavenly. The little one, whose name was Revan, climbed under the table with some wooden toys, much to my amusement and his mother's dismay. I wondered where his father was – I knew it couldn't be Gorim, he'd only been on the surface for months – but thought it would probably be rude to ask.

Riana told us that Gorim was out back, in a work shed, helping her father who was the smith that made many of the items Gorim sold. She expected him back in the house soon, and so we all settled for a few minutes, making awkward small talk. From what I was able to gather, without asking too many questions, there was no way that the babe she carried was actually Gorim's; she was too close to delivery, unless dwarves had a much shorter pregnancy than humans. Wynne asked permission to check on the baby, which she granted, and Wynne declared that she was a healthy baby girl.

She seemed very respectful towards Aedan and Alistair, a bit in awe of meeting actual Grey Wardens (or maybe of their height, I giggled to myself). She was a bit confused by Zevran, Leliana, and me, but didn't ask. Revan kept it from getting awkward with adorable comments and questions, including comparing himself in size to Alistair's boot. We were all in stitches when Gorim entered, looking at us all in confusion.

He smiled fondly at the little boy, and went around to sit beside his wife. I noted he had a slight limp, and wondered what that was all about. His wife smiled brilliantly at him, and he placed his hand on her shoulder. It was a sweet gesture, and I smiled as Alistair mimicked him, and then giggled as Aedan did the same to Zevran. We repeated the introductions, and Gorim gave both Grey Wardens a long, judging once-over. He seemed to approve, nodding to himself and relaxing slightly.

Riana stood up and served dinner, some sort of roast meat with potatoes. I didn't ask what the meat was, and no one said; Alistair did give me a strange look when I ate it, so I guessed it was something I normally wouldn't have. It didn't taste bad, however, and as long as everyone kept quiet, I figured I'd be okay. We all dug in, thanking Riana heartily for the meal.

"So. You're the last Grey Wardens, I hear."

Aedan nodded, swallowing his mouthful. "We have been gathering an army to defeat the darkspawn, before the blight takes over Ferelden."

Gorim turned to me. "And so who are you, exactly?"

I gestured at Aedan. "His sister. I'm trying to help them. But I'm also…I guess the best word for it would be a seer."

"As in, can see the future?" He scoffed. "I doubt that."

"Not exactly. More like…I can see certain possible future options, based on what's happened already. It's limited, I only know about certain things, but what I know will happen unless we do something to change it."

He snorted. "If the future could have been changed, why wouldn't you have stopped the massacre at Ostagar?"

I flushed guiltily. "I would have if I could. I couldn't get there fast enough." Alistair squeezed my shoulder gently, and I leaned into him a bit. "I did what I could – I slowed down the advance so some of the vanguard could escape. If I'd been able to arrive the day before…but I couldn't, and I can't go back in time."

He still looked skeptical. I couldn't blame him; it sounded insane, even to me, and I was living it.

"Look, maybe I can help. Why don't I start by telling you what I know about you? Then you can decide if I'm crazy." I smiled, and he laughed softly.

"You've got confidence, I'll give you that. Go ahead, I'm listening."

Now that he was staring at me expectantly, I felt a little nervous. _What's the worst that could happen?_ I cleared my throat.

"You were a warrior in Orzammar, and Sereda Aeducan's second. Sereda was the middle child of Endrin, King of Orzammar. Sereda had two brothers, Trian and Bhelen. Trian was a self-important idiot who was jealous of Sereda's popularity. Bhelen always seemed like a nice younger brother. There was a Proving in Sereda's honour, and then you were supposed to accompany her into the Deep Roads the following day. She was supposed to lead you into Aeducan Thaig to reclaim the Shield of Aeducan."

Gorim started at the mention of the secret, last minute mission they had been assigned.

"Before you left, Bhelen came and told her Trian was plotting to assassinate her. I don't know if she agreed to kill him first, or whether she decided to wait and see." I paused, looking at him for a response.

His face reddened. "She would never attack her brother."

"Right. In that case, when you got to the Aeducan Thaig, you were attacked by some mercenaries who had Trian's ring. And then you found his body. Bhelen had him killed, and brought Endrin and Harrowmont in just in time to see her discover the body. The scouts with you had been bribed or blackmailed, and told the King that you and Sereda killed Trian. You were both arrested. Bhelen had also bribed and blackmailed the Deshyrs into supporting him, and he had a vote brought to exile Sereda to the Deep Roads. Her father didn't even try to stop it. You were sent to the surface, and she was sent to her death."

His expression was thoughtful, and I wanted to see what he would say. He waited while Riana cleared plates; Leliana jumped up to help, and I shot her a grateful smile.

"How do you know?"

"That's a long story. I'm not from here – Thedas, I mean. Where I'm from…what happened in Orzammar is common knowledge. As is what happened next. After you left, Bhelen poisoned Endrin, we think. The King had named lord Harrowmont as his successor before he died. Now the assembly is deadlocked between Bhelen and Harrowmont. When we travel there, both of them will try to use the Grey Wardens to support them, eventually forcing us into the Deep Roads to try to find Paragon Branka. I was hoping you could offer some…insight, maybe, or help with navigating the politics. Or a solution to the dilemma, because neither of them will make a good King." I paused, looking at Gorim curiously. "What isn't known is how you escaped, and why you ended up here." _Or at least, I don't know. Maybe the Aeducan origin would have, but…_

He looked uncomfortable, and I wondered why. After a couple of moments, Riana gave him a nudge, and when he looked at her, a nod. He had a sad smile on his face, and she looked close to tears.

He sighed. "I was exiled from Orzammar, and escorted to the surface by the guards. Some of Bhelen's 'friends' were waiting for me, and tried to kill me. I escaped, but I was injured in the process. Riana and her father were on the surface trading with Orzammar, and she found me and nursed me back to health. They concealed me in their wagon and got me away, and the next thing I remember, we were halfway here."

Wynne asked permission, before examining Gorim; she did something, and some of the tension around his eyes lessened. His eyes widened and his thanks were effusive.

"It won't be perfect – it's been that way for too long – but if you exercise it, it should improve with time."

Riana poked Gorim again, irritated now. "That's not the whole story, Gorim. Now tell the rest."

He grimaced at her, but she didn't back down. He gripped her shoulder and sighed, before turning back.

"I think I have some information that could be useful to you. Because the truth is, when I left Orzammar I was coming here anyway, to find the Grey Wardens. I believe…Sereda may be alive."

* * *

A/N:

Okay so some people seem concerned that the rest of this story is all going to be saccharine and sappy, but let me assure you, that isn't the case. There's still plenty of angst and action coming up, so don't leave me just yet!

Please, please review. It's what I live for!

As always, BioWare owns Dragon Age, as much as I wish I could claim I did. Many thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande for their help with beta'ing this beast. Wait, is betaing a word? Whatever.

Reviews:

ShellyGamerGal: Turn about is definitely fair play. The way I see Alistair, in my head, though, is that he'll take his time devising payback...stay tuned ;)

renegadelove: Any time I can get LOLs, especially in inappropriate places, is a victory. So I'm not even sorry ;) And I plan to keep going, for sure through Awakenings, and maybe beyond depending on how badly Inquisition messes with my head canon :) I'm not nearly as intimately familiar with DA2, and I don't see Sierra moving to Kirkwall, but there will probably be some amount of interaction with those characters...glad you approve of my smut :)

Enchantm3nt: Marjolaine, yes, and some other shenanigans. And Angst soon, I promise :)

And many thanks to: Flower248, brandischoch, and Judy (Guest) for their reviews as well!


	7. Chapter 50: Choose and Lose

Please see the original story for the next chapter, Chapter Fifty: Choose and Lose. Not so much explicit sex, so I didn't feel the need to split it. Hope everyone enjoys!


	8. Chapter 69: Reconciling Differences

This is the unedited, explicit version of this chapter. If that's not what you're looking for, please see There and Back Again under my profile.

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Chapter Sixty-Nine: Reconciling Differences

I must have dozed myself, because I woke to a startled gasp as Blake sat up and practically leapt off my bed. His hair was all stuck up on one side of his head, his expression groggy but horrified.

"Blake? What's wrong, kiddo?"

"My Lady, I'm so sorry, I took your bed, and-"

"Blake. Calm down, okay? I told you to sleep on the bed. And I'm just Sierra, remember? There's no need to be afraid. No one is going to hurt you anymore. I swear it." I pulled him over to me, wrapping my arms around his frail shoulders and hugging him. He was stiff for just a moment, and then seemed to relax and return the hug.

"I'm just so afraid all the time." He buried his face in my shoulder and his hands gripped my shirt.

I hugged him tighter. "You don't have to be anymore."

"But the Arlessa…"

"Listen." I pulled him to half sit in my lap, as he seemed to be comforted by the contact. "I have some stuff to talk to you about. But I want you to know that the Arlessa will never lay a hand on you again. No one will, or they'll have to face me, and I'm not afraid of the Arlessa, okay?"

He nodded, seemingly reassured.

"So. First things first. Do you read or write at all?"

"Sort of, my L- Sierra. My ma tried to teach me sometimes, when she wasn't working. But we didn't have any books or things, so I'm not very good."

"Okay. Tell me, have you ever thought about what you'd do, if you could do anything? Not like being King – obviously that's impossible – but I mean, have you ever wanted to be a knight, or a scholar, or anything?"

"I've never thought about it." He scrunched up his nose. "I don't think I'd be a very good knight. I'm too little."

"Hmm. I have an opportunity for you. I'm going to tell you all about it, and then you can tell me if it sounds like something you'd like to do. You are allowed to say no, and I will not be upset with you. If you don't want to do this, I will find something else; you will not be sent back to the kitchens, okay?"

He nodded.

"The King, you saw him today in the kitchen, right? Well, we're trying to get his throne back for him from a bad man who's trying to steal it. When we do, he's going to need people around him he can trust. He has offered to take you on as his personal servant. You'd be responsible for organising his clothes, helping him dress, getting him food from the kitchens, that sort of thing. You'd have your own room in the palace, you'd be fed and treated well. He would train you to do the job over the next few weeks, and then you'd go with us when we go to Denerim. He'd also be teaching you to read.

"What do you think?"

His eyes were big. "But I'd have to stay here for the next few weeks?"

"Yes, but you'd be the King's servant, not the Arlessa's. You'd sleep in a bed nearby, in case the King needed something. And the Arlessa wouldn't dare to hit the King's personal servant. The King is a good man; he would protect you from her. And I'll check on you when I get back; the Arlessa would be in big trouble if I found out she hurt you."

"Why would the King want me? I'm nobody."

"That's not true, Blake. You've been treated like that, but no one is unimportant. You're a nice kid, and you'd be loyal to the King, right? You wouldn't betray him by telling his secrets or not doing a good job, right? You're exactly what he needs, because he can't trust everybody. But I think he could trust you, couldn't he?"

He stood up, puffing out his tiny chest a little. "Yes, my Lady. I'd never tell nobody anything about the King. I swear."

"See? That's the sort of man he needs around. Now, do you think you'd like that job? Or shall I figure out something else? It's entirely up to you."

He looked over at me. "Will I be able to see you?"

"Sometimes. You know that I travel with the Grey Wardens, and we're all really busy because of the Blight, right? But when I can, whenever we are back here, or later when we're in Denerim, I promise to come see you as often as I can."

"Okay." He looked about to cry. "No one's ever been nice to me before, other than Ma. But I know I can't come with you and fight and stuff. If you think I can do it…"

I nodded. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't."

He sighed. "When do I go?"

"How about after supper?"

I walked him down to Redcliffe Village, and bought him a few more things: some toys, an empty notebook, quill, and ink, and a storybook meant for children. I knew Theron would provide for him (or Eamon would, indirectly, by supporting Theron until he was back on the throne), but I wanted him to have some of his own things, too.

We had supper back at the castle; Eamon again looked like he was sucking on a lemon when I brought Blake with me, but he didn't say a word. After we ate, I introduced Theron to Blake. We had to stress several times that he was not to be calling Theron 'Your Majesty' until after the Landsmeet; it took a bit of doing. The two seemed to hit it off okay, and to my surprise, Theron had made some plans in case Blake took the job. He had arranged a small room near his, where Blake could sleep; he took the kid up there, and I helped him transfer his clothes and few meager possessions from my room to his.

I was shocked and touched when Alistair came up, offering Blake an old, strange looking piece of rock; I looked again and realised it was a golem figurine. He told Blake it had helped him feel less lonely when he was a boy hiding from the Arlessa, and that he wanted Blake to have it. It was such a sweet gesture, I couldn't help but squeeze Alistair's hand thankfully. He smiled at me, sadly, and left again.

Once I was sure Blake was settled, I gave him a hug and went to find Aedan. They had done their last minute errands and were all ready to go for the morning; I hugged my brother, almost cried, and then ran off to bed before anyone could see me being so vulnerable. I slept poorly, but refused to get up to see them off; it would only have made the separation harder. I knew that Aedan carried a spare set of armour he'd taken from the Redcliffe armoury just in case I ended up popping back to Earth and then joining him somewhere in the Wilds.

When I finally did get up, I put on my armour, and after eating a quick-but-large breakfast, went out to the training grounds and sparred with some of Wayne's knights. He was pleasantly surprised at my progress since I'd seen him last; I didn't win any sparring matches, but I didn't entirely humiliate myself, either. Tomas joined us, and I practiced against him for a while, but his skill was to the knight-trainees as theirs were to me; I didn't have a chance.

Bruised and sweaty, I decided to have a shower. I went up to my room, got together my things, and headed down into the basement. The sound of the water thundering through the foundation of the castle was deafening even from several rooms away; I finally came to the crack, wiggled my way through, and found myself in the little cavern.

Only, I wasn't alone.

Alistair stood under the spray, head tilted back, face almost completely obscured by water; soap suds ran down his chest, past his manhood, and down his muscular legs. I stared, dumbstruck, as my libido started urgently demanding that I strip and start applying my hands, mouth, and anything else I could to that sculpted body. Suddenly embarrassed, I realised I was no better than Theron, staring like that, and I turned away. Face flaming, I stumbled out through the crack in the foundation, and leaned against the wall, breathing hard, trying to drive the images from my mind.

Probably ten minutes later, Alistair slipped into the hallway, and gasped, startled to see me.

"Sierra?"

I couldn't stop the blush from recurring, no matter how hard I tried. His expression became knowing, and almost a little bit amused. "Get a good look, then?"

I stepped around him, refusing to discuss what I'd just seen, intending to head into the shower room, thankful suddenly that it would be a cold shower. Before I could make it through the crack, he spoke.

"When you're done…could we talk?" I nodded, not turning back. "I'll meet you up on the battlements? Where we went before?"

I nodded again, and then practically ran into the shower room, desperate to escape.

The shower was heavenly, and cold, as desired; I felt really clean for the first time in ages. _Baths and streams just don't compare to a high-pressure shower._ I wrung out my hair, leaving it down to dry; after redressing, I hurried to my room to drop off my stuff before finding the strange door that lead up to the balcony on the roof of the keep, what Alistair called battlements.

Alistair sat on the stone railing, looking out across the lake; he turned as he heard me approach, smiling at me. We both sank onto the floor, backs to the keep wall, side by side as we'd been the last time I'd been up there as well.

I picked at my thumbnail, nervously, wondering what exactly he wanted to talk about.

Finally he cleared his throat. "I wanted to say thank you. I know you didn't only do it for me, but no one's ever stood up to Isolde for me before. Theron told me what you said."

I flushed. "No thanks necessary. I'd have done the same for anyone. No child deserves her. Thanks for giving Blake the golem, by the way. I think it might help, knowing he wasn't the only one to grow up abused by her."

"I'm glad. Poor kid. At least I was properly fed. I can't even imagine what they were thinking." He shuddered.

"I wouldn't say thinking is Isolde's strong suit." I smirked, and he chuckled. "And I suspect that Eamon just lets her run the show, do whatever she wants, without paying any attention. It doesn't excuse him, as he should be paying attention, but I bet he had no idea who Blake even was or that he was being abused."

"I can't decide if that's better or worse."

"Me either. But I'm guessing that wasn't why you asked me to talk?"

"No." He took a deep breath and let it out. "I have a confession to make. I promise it was entirely accidental, but I overheard part of your conversation with Teagan yesterday. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop – you didn't close the door all the way, and I was walking by; I heard your voice and went looking, only to find you with Teagan. I left again right away, but I heard some things, first."

I racked my brain, trying to think what we'd talked about. He'd offered me refuge at Rainesfere, should I wish to get away from Alistair, because…_Ah_. "About you. Us."

His face was scarlet, and he nodded, but kept on despite his embarrassment. "I heard you tell him that you believe I am disgusted by you."

I nodded, unsure where he was going with it. He refused to meet my eyes.

"Mind telling me why you believe that?"

"Because it's true?" Being so close to him, especially after what I'd seen earlier, was becoming difficult. It was making me cranky and curt. Even I flinched at my harsh tone, but he didn't.

"Allow me to rephrase. What specifically did I do to make you believe that?" His tone was polite, curious; not irritated by my attitude, for which I should have been thankful, and wasn't. _It seems I want a fight._

I sighed. "You called me a monster, Alistair. You walked away. And your face…Maker, the expression on your face. I can see it still, in my mind. You made it quite clear I disgust you."

I looked away; I didn't want to be discussing it. Not when now I knew I wanted him back, and yet couldn't have him. I scrunched my eyes shut, trying to banish the hurtful image. The silence stretched, and finally I risked a glance in his direction. He sat, perfectly still, looking forlorn. His eyes were glistening suspiciously, and his lower lip quivered just slightly; it was painful to watch. Almost painful enough to overwrite the image of his disgust.

Finally he spoke. "Sierra, I…Void take me, but I'm an idiot. Everything I do is just…" He hopped to his feet and started to pace restlessly; I flinched, startled by the abruptness of the movement. It occurred to me, as my first reflex was to assume I'd be hurt, that I had been letting trust issues run my life for far too long. Unaware of my internal monologue, Alistair continued, "I wasn't disgusted with you. Truly. I was hurt, thinking that you might have had ulterior motives for being with me, but I wasn't disgusted with you. I was disgusted with myself. For ever thinking I deserved something more, deserved to have someone love me just for me. In my head…of course you had ulterior motives, I should never have expected otherwise. I was disgusted with my own stupid naivety and optimism. And then you were gone, and when everyone found out what happened…"

He sank back down beside me, looking exhausted. "They all made me see what an imbecile I was, that you had no possible ulterior motive. That you'd avoided me for months to prevent me from falling for you. I didn't believe you, when you told me. But they said the exact same things, and it finally sunk in that I was wrong, totally wrong. I didn't realise how badly I'd screwed up until I saw you again.

"I never thought you were disgusting. Even those few hours where I truly believed you'd manipulated me…I was only disgusted with myself." He reached over and touched my cheek, gently stroking it. "Never you."

He dropped his hand, and I immediately missed it; the warmth, the gentleness, the intimacy. I looked away, trying to pull myself together. I'd been trying to get over the mental image for a while, but now the urge was almost overwhelming. At the same time, my heart hurt; it was an echo of the pain I'd felt when he walked away, and I was too scared to let him back in again.

I decided to tell him the entire truth. If I'd analysed it, I'd have realised that I was trying to push him away, but I didn't think about it that hard. The impulse hit, and I just started talking.

"You once asked me to tell you the other things I was keeping from you, from the game. Games." He nodded, I noticed in my peripheral vision. "Do you still want to know?"

When he nodded again, I took a deep breath. "The only things relevant to you are at the Landsmeet. So, I'm going to talk like it was me, as the Warden, with you at the Landsmeet, because that's how I see it, in my head." He nodded. "So, assuming you were in a relationship with me, my character…Hmm. Backing up. My Warden, the one I usually played, was a Cousland. A female Cousland named Elyssa. Anyway, we'd go into the Landsmeet, and blah blah blah with Loghain. Anora would betray us. There'd be a vote, and it would go against Loghain. But of course, he wouldn't back down, so it would come down to single combat between him and me.

"When I defeated him, I had the option of executing him or recruiting him to the Wardens." I held up a hand to forestall the objection I knew was coming. "We'll get to that. Usually I went with execution, and then I had four options. I could declare Anora to be the Queen. We'd stay Grey Wardens together and go on our merry way. Or I could coerce you into marrying her and ruling jointly, despite the fact that we were together. I could declare myself your Queen, entirely without asking you or discussing it with you first. Or I could make you King by yourself, at which point you immediately and publicly broke off our relationship because you'd need to marry a noblewoman who could give you heirs.

"If my character was an elf, dwarf, or mage, I wouldn't have the option to rule beside you, obviously."

His face was pale. "None of those…are good options. Not that I'd probably have minded the getting married part, but I could see it being an awkward thing for you. And I don't relish leaving Anora on the throne, but I wouldn't want to marry her, and I wouldn't want to lose you." Alistair looked upset. I knew it was going to get worse, and I gulped despite the tingle of warmth at his admission he wouldn't mind marrying me.

I nodded. "And it's not like I wouldn't have understood your reasoning in breaking things off, but…it still hurt. And you did it entirely tactlessly, and in front of all of our companions."

"Yeah, that sounds like the sort of dumb thing I would do." I shot him a dirty look, and he flinched. "Sorry. I am sorry. I'd like to say I'm not like that, but…"

I looked away, unable to meet his eye for the next part. "The worse alternative was if I allowed Loghain to be conscripted. Of course, we didn't know about dying to defeat the Archdemon at the time, but Riordan made vague comments about us needing all the Grey Wardens we could get. And if I allowed it to happen…you got upset, obviously, and if I didn't change my mind, you left. Left the Wardens, abdicated your throne…left me. You refused to fight the Archdemon, and ended up a drunk in Kirkwall, living on charity from Teagan and trying hard to kill yourself with alcohol poisoning. You didn't even look back as you walked away, even if we loved each other."

"I just assumed you were betraying me," he stated. I nodded, sniffling. "Like I did, here, only sooner. And for an even stupider reason."

A tear dribbled down my cheek. I remembered the pain of that betrayal the first time I'd played it in game. It had hurt, even as I knew it was ridiculous to be so affected by a fictional character. I'd had to save the game and go cry, like I was now. But it was nothing next to knowing what it actually felt like, watching Alistair walk away from me. I turned away from Alistair, embarrassed to be seen so emotional over what he would assume was a stupid game.

I should have known better; I felt his hand on my shoulder, his arm move around me, and before I knew what had happened I was sobbing into his shoulder as he held me close to him. He settled me in his lap, stroking my hair, not letting go, whispering apologies, and just let me cry. I soaked his shirt with my tears, and he didn't seem to notice, just kept holding me. I pressed my face into his shoulder, and felt a drop of water hit the back of my hand. I'd have thought it was one of my tears, if my face hadn't been buried at the time.

I looked up, wondering if it was about to rain, only to see blue sky all around. One quick glance at his face, and I realised – it was Alistair's tear. I'd never seen him cry before; not in game, not in real life. But there were twin tracks running down his cheeks, and more drops fell as I watched. I put my arms around his neck and he pulled me close; the two of us sat there for probably an hour, crying together without words.

We must have fallen asleep; when I woke, it was close to sundown, based on the angle of the sun, and it was chilly on the balcony. My stomach rumbled, and I wondered if we'd missed supper entirely. I was still cradled in Alistair's arms; he had one hand buried in my hair, the other arm draped around me, his head back, snoring softly.

I watched his face as he slept; he didn't look peaceful, exactly, but it was the most relaxed, least unhappy I'd seen him look since they had found me at Soldier's Peak. Sunlight glinted off his blond hair, making it look even lighter than normal; his mouth was slack, but the deep wrinkle in his forehead was gone. And we'd both slept without nightmares, which was unusual; lately, it'd seemed, we'd both been having frequent darkspawn-laden dreams, or at least I assumed it by how often he looked tired and haggard, and from my own recurrent nightmares.

I regretted telling Alistair about the Landsmeet. Having time to think about it, I finally realised I'd intended to use it to hurt him, to push him away. His eyes opened, while I thought about it, and he smiled softly at me before seeming to realise where we were. Once he did, he gripped me tighter, if anything, preventing me from running away, which was exactly what I'd been thinking about. But when I looked deeply into his hazel eyes, I decided I didn't want to run away. I was sick of running, and I wasn't angry anymore. I hadn't been in a while, if I was honest.

Before I could change my mind, I reached behind him, carding my fingers through his soft hair, and then pulled him down to crush his lips against mine. He didn't hesitate to respond, tightening his grasp on my hair, pulling me tightly to him, groaning as I teased his lower lip with my tongue. It was a desperate kiss, somehow conveying need and want but also sorrow and loneliness and regret. I knew, for certain, that he regretted what he'd done, what he'd assumed, and without him saying it, I knew he'd never betray me again. I knew he loved me. And I think he knew that I forgave him, and that I loved him in return.

After the first few desperate seconds, he pulled back a little, softening the kiss, nuzzling his nose against my cheek, his hands stroking my face and my hair. Our lips moved slowly against each other, our tongues darting out to touch but not wrestle each other. For what felt like an eternity, there was nothing but his soft breath on my face, his lips against my own, and his hands stirring warmth wherever they touched.

When we pulled away, the look of adoration on his face took my breath away. It was sort of goofy, with a lopsided smile and sparkling eyes. In that moment, it completely replaced the mental image I'd been carrying for so long, that look of disgust on his face. I felt the fear, the anger, the hurt disappear, leaving behind contentment and love. I didn't think I'd ever forget what had happened, but I filed it into a mental category of 'lessons learned', and moved on. It was no longer important; only the future mattered. And my future was with him.

His smile slowly faded, to be replaced by a look of worry; not being party to the thoughts in my head, it was clear he was unsure of where we stood. I put my finger on his lips to prevent him from speaking, and pressed my forehead to his.

"I love you. I never stopped, really, it just hurt for a while. I was so angry. I think…no, I know I'm ready to move on now, if you are."

He nodded. "I swear to you, I will never doubt you again."

I interrupted. "Yes, you will. And so will I. That's normal, I think. But if either of us have concerns, I want us both to agree to ask the other for clarification before we jump to conclusions. To agree never to assume the worst of each other. Can we do that?"

"Absolutely. And Sierra…I will never leave you. Never again. I know you must be afraid, but I'm not that man anymore. I know, now, that I can't live without you. These last weeks have been horrible, contemplating a future without you. I would bet all the coin I have that if you asked that Alistair, the one drunk in Kirkwall, the only thing he had left was regret, knowing that he should never have walked away. Now that I already know that regret, I never will. I swear it."

I pulled him down for another kiss, to stop him from talking, if nothing else. It was a "you had me at hello" sort of moment, and I wanted to savour it, not discuss it. With a sigh, I pulled away, however.

"There's one more thing you should know."

His expression was anxious. "Oh?"

"I told you before…at the end of the Blight – there's a second game. It covers the events happening in Kirkwall after the Blight."

"Right…?"

"In that game…the player plays as someone else. Hawke – a Ferelden refugee whose mother was a noble in Kirkwall until she eloped with an apostate. Hawke ends up dealing with a lot of stuff happening in Kirkwall." He nodded understanding. I sighed. "In the game, there were possible romances, again."

He grimaced, but then controlled his expression, looking at me calmly. "Who?"

"Anders." It was almost a whisper; I didn't want to admit it, but everything needed to be on the table if we were going to move on.

"Of course. It would have to be." He sighed. "Do you…do you like him? I mean…"

"No, no. Maker, no. It's…actually, it's a tragic romance. And he can be a total ass. I'm not Marian Hawke, nor even Solona, apparently. I have no interest. I just…I figured you needed to know. I know things about him. Like Zev, or Leli. If it ever comes up…I don't want that to come as a shock. No more secrets."

"I won't say I'm not jealous. I am. But I trust you. If you say it's not like that…"

"It's not. I promise. Not even the slightest attraction. He was never my type."

"Oh? And what's your type, then?" His expression was mischievous, and I grinned.

"Oh, you know, tall, dark, and handsome. Just what you'd expect."

He grabbed me, holding me to him and tickling my side relentlessly. "You minx! You're…you're a bad person."

I giggled maniacally, his devilish fingers making me squirm and gasp for air. "Uncle! Uncle. I give." He stopped tickling, and I smiled up at his handsome face, careworn wrinkles already gone from his forehead. "You. You're my type. Funny and gorgeous and strong and perfect. Even before I came here, it was you."

I wiggled around in his lap until I could straddle him, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling his hands on my back and one hip. I kissed him, trying to convey the desire, the total commitment I felt, and he returned the favour. I moaned into his mouth, his hands clenching into fists as I pressed myself closer. I teased at his lips, trying to get his tongue engaged, but he seemed to be avoiding it.

Finally pulling away from the kiss, I looked down at him in confusion. "I shall be most offended if that's the best you can do, you know."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "'Shall'? Seriously? Now you sound like Morrigan."

I grinned and stuck my tongue out at him, enjoying the way his eyes lingered on my mouth. "Yeah yeah. Don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject."

His smile faded slightly, and he blushed. "I thought…I just thought, perhaps we shouldn't be so…hasty. That maybe I could, I don't know…" he trailed off, looking sheepish.

I was both relieved and amused. "Woo me? Is that what you were thinking?" He nodded. "I don't need to be wooed, Alistair. We've already done awkward and unsure. I've been alone and hurting for weeks, and I'm sure it's the same for you. I don't need to be wooed, I need to be loved. Please?"

He studied my face, and then I felt his hands slide up my back to tangle in my hair as he dragged me to him for another kiss. He pressed his tongue against my lower lip and I opened to him; he immediately took advantage. It was exactly what I needed: the taste that was all Alistair, the feel of his hands pulling me closer, his hard body pressed up against mine. When he pulled back to start kissing down my jaw and then sucking on my ear, I gasped and trembled.

He finally stopped, pressing his forehead against mine while we both panted. "We should continue this somewhere more private. If…I mean, if you're sure."

I smiled at him, gazing into his hazel eyes. "I'm sure." My stomach grumbled, and his followed. "I'm hungry, though. I think we missed supper."

"And lunch. How's this – you head to my room, and I'll find us some food and join you there?"

I agreed, and then awkwardly scrambled out of his lap. He kissed me one more time, and then held the door for me to head inside from the ramparts. He headed down to the kitchen, and I wandered slowly towards his room. I ran into Blake, who was carrying a covered tray; I apologised for missing him at the meal. He assured me he was doing fine, that he was being taken care of, and that Isolde hadn't so much as looked at him. I ruffled his hair affectionately and he scurried off towards Theron's room with the tray.

I slipped inside Alistair's room without being seen, and then stopped, unsure what to do from there and suddenly nervous. His room was virtually identical to mine, so I went over to sit in the armchair in front of the fireplace. _Hearth._ I'd been working on Fereldan terminology for things, but I wasn't always successful.

Aedan had tried, a couple of times while we'd walked, to explain to me the terms for various pieces of armour; I'd heard cuirasses and gambesons and pauldrons and a bunch of other strange words, and not even my gaming history helped me retain them. I knew gauntlets, but the rest were a mystery. To me, pants, chest piece, gloves and boots were good enough. It was like trying to stop saying 'Oh my God'. That one was going to get me in trouble one day. I'd added swears using the Maker or Andraste to my repertoire, but hadn't quite managed to fully phase out the Earth ones.

It also amazed me that straight up swears were used so rarely. I'd heard 'shit' a couple of times, but nobody seemed to drop the F-bomb. They used sodding instead, which never failed to make me giggle. I was looking forward to meeting Oghren, for that if nothing else. Alistair had called Morrigan a bitch in game, but I'd never heard it used other than referring to female dogs.

I realised I was trying to distract myself from my nervousness, and laughed. It was such a stupid thing. I had no reason to be nervous; it wasn't our first time, and I wasn't doubting him anymore, so…I took a shaky breath and tried to relax.

Alistair found me curled on the chair, staring intently at his drawing of myself looking miserable, holding the tiny Ironman figurine when he arrived. He had a similar tray to Blake's, only it was clearly piled high. He put it on the table, before approaching me and taking my hand. He drew me up from the chair, taking the figurine from my hands.

"I kept it. I don't even know what it is, but…" He flushed, and I went up on tiptoes to kiss him gently.

"Would you like me to tell you?" He nodded. "It's called Iron Man. It's a guy wearing a suit made of metal, and it can fly. He is a superhero – he uses the powers of the suit to help people. Sort of. I just thought it was sort of like the other figurines you like. Like the golem. I saw it in a shop in the hospital and couldn't resist."

He kissed me softly, then rested his forehead against mine. "When I found that in my bedroll, when I walked away from you that night, I felt like such a…"

"It doesn't matter now." I kissed him briefly again. "New beginning, right? No secrets." He nodded again, blushing when I waved the drawing I'd pulled out of his pack at him. "Speaking of which, I didn't know you could draw."

"I didn't know that _you_ knew I can draw."

"Wynne," I said as though that explained everything; he nodded, so maybe it did. "I think it's about time we feed this one to the fire, don't you think?"

He frowned. "I keep it-"

"To punish yourself with? I know." He nodded, so I continued, "I don't think either of us need reminding, do we? This is the past. We're moving forward. Forgiven, right?"

He studied my face for a moment, and I stood quietly, holding the drawing. Finally he nodded; together, we crouched in front of the hearth. We held each other's hands as we placed the drawing in the fire. It caught immediately, the dry parchment lighting up with a whoosh. He smiled hesitantly at me, and I returned the smile with a brilliant one of my own.

Standing, he encouraged me to sit on the edge of the bed; leaving me there, he grabbed the tray and put it in the middle before sitting on the far side.

He pulled the linen off the tray to reveal fruit, cheese, some thin-sliced meats, and buns. We both tore into the food, too hungry for manners or for awkwardness.

"So how did you learn to draw?" I asked around a mouthful of bread.

"At the monastery, there wasn't much to do outside of training and studying. We had lots of parchment – no one questioned us needing more – so it was easy to doodle and hide it in my study materials. I just had lots of chances to practice."

"Well, you're amazing. You have quite the eye for detail. Whenever I draw, I'm lucky if I can get my stick figures to look human."

He flushed and cleared his throat nervously, then changed the subject.

When nothing remained on the tray but crumbs, I looked up to meet his eyes, only to find him staring at me in return, and immediately my embarrassment returned.

He got up, putting the tray back on the table, before digging through the drawers of his armoire. When he turned around, he held one of the tunics he wore for sleep. He fidgeted with the cloth, clearly having as much trouble as I was.

"I was thinking…it might be nice if we could pretend the last few weeks hadn't happened, if we could start over. I was thinking I should sort of, um, court you, the way nobles do it? But if you don't want that, I thought…maybe we could pretend it was our first night again? And just start from there?"

He held out the tunic limply, looking vulnerable. I smiled, walking up and cupping his cheek with one hand, taking the tunic with the other. "That sounds good." I stroked his cheek softly. "You had less stubble, then."

"I had sort of planned things, then. Today was a surprise." He smiled, and I grinned in return. "Do you want me to shave?"

I rasped my fingers over his stubble again; it was just long enough to look rugged, not long enough to be uncomfortably prickly. "No. I like it."

Hi eyes darkened, and he pressed a kiss to my fingers. "Go change, before I get other ideas."

I slipped behind the little curtain, taking care of business and changing into his shirt. When I came out, he wore sleeping pants, like the first night in Denerim, and nothing else. It was getting dark, so he'd lit a candle; we didn't quite need it yet, but we would before long. I knew why, and I felt the same: I wanted to see him, all of him, not make love in the dark.

He walked over and effortlessly lifted me into his arms, moving to place me gently on the bed. I couldn't pry my gaze away from his gorgeous, serious face as he laid down beside me. Without a word, he kissed me, and I ran my fingers into his hair to hold him close. The kiss was passionate, but far less desperate than I'd expected. I sort of thought the first time after so long would be needy and sweaty and fast, but he seemed determined to go slow, to drag it out.

After an eternity of kissing, I felt his hand on my stomach, rubbing gently, then wandering down to my hip. I let my own hands explore his bare chest, stroking and smoothing the skin over the rippling muscles I'd been appreciating in the shower room. He shivered when I brushed a finger over his nipple, so I did it again, triggering a groan. He released my lips to start kissing down my jawline, while his hand finally cupped my breast through the tunic. Now unable to reach much of his skin, I settled for clenching my hand in his short hair while I shuddered and arched into his fingers. He teased my nipple through the thin cloth, not providing enough stimulation to get any sort of relief, but dragging a gasp from me anyway.

I had the sudden need to sit up and rid myself of the pesky tunic, wanting his hands on my skin, _right-sodding-now_, but he seemed to guess my intent; when I went to sit, Alistair held me down, and when I tried to push him away he simply gathered both of my wrists in one hand, holding them lazily above my head. It seemed like he wasn't making a true effort to keep me pinned, but to my dismay, when I struggled, I couldn't break free. _Stupid warriors and their stupid strong hands._ I cursed as he went back to licking my ear, and felt his breath as he chuckled.

"You could change your mind tomorrow. I'm not going to rush anything tonight, my love."

"What if I beg?"

"Oh, I'd very much like to hear that, Sierra. Please, feel free." His voice was going to be my undoing, I was suddenly certain. The husky tone he took on when aroused was enough to make me want to scream.

I resolved then and there not to beg, no matter what, but at least part of me was well aware that I'd break that resolve in a hot second if I thought it would work. When he gently nipped my neck and his hand returned to tease my nipple some more, I groaned and writhed, my hands clenching uselessly on empty air.

Finally satisfied that I was completely frustrated, he leaned back and urged me to roll over without releasing my hands. In a haze of arousal and want, I complied, unable to express my confusion at the request but too dazed to resist. He laid alongside me, enough pressure on my back and hip that I couldn't get up, and finally released my hands. He stroked my hair, kissing the back of my neck and my shoulder, until finally rising up to swing his leg across and straddle my bare thighs. His hands gently brushed my shoulder blades, down to my lower back, and eventually I felt them tease at the hem of the tunic I wore.

I held my breath as his nimble fingers slipped underneath, and he caressed my thighs softly before reversing his previous path underneath the fabric. He fondled my bottom for a few moments, making me squirm, and then, as his hands rose, so did the fabric of the shirt. I felt him shift, and then gasped as his lips pressed to one of my exposed butt cheeks. He repeated the process on the other side before questing further north with his hands. He followed his questing fingers with kisses, from my lower back, to both scapulae, to the nape of my neck, at which point the fabric of the tunic was bunched, denying further progress.

I had hoped he would allow me to finally rid myself of the pesky garment, but instead he lifted it over my head and tangled it around my arms, then began massaging my back, shoulders, and butt. I didn't even realise how sore my muscles were, and he gently kneaded each knot with his strong fingers until I was completely relaxed. I was still aroused – mostly naked, with a semi-nude Adonis straddling my legs, I don't think I could have been anything else – but the need was less urgent, somehow less desperate than before.

I could feel his hardness against my thigh, but he seemed content ignoring it for the moment. Once he had me entirely limp, he began kissing his way down my spine instead. I tried to lay still, I truly did, but when his tongue swiped against the sensitive skin between my shoulders, I moaned and arched up, pressing myself against his lips harder. I had no idea, before that moment, that my back was so sensitive, though I supposed it could have just been the anticipation. I had been entirely relaxed, but now I was completely tense for a different reason.

He slid one hand into my thick curls, tugging them out of his way to get at the back of my neck; it was accidental, I gathered from his whispered apologies, but his fingers tangled and pulled my hair as he did. Delicious sensations shot from my scalp all the way down my spine, and I shuddered in pleasure even as he caressed the area gently. I was shocked – having my hair yanked seemed like it shouldn't have been sexy – but it turned me on even more. As I mulled it over, still mewling and pressing up against his hard chest above me, I realised it was the same thing that made this whole situation so delicious – _apparently I like it when Alistair takes control_. I didn't know how far that would extend, and I certainly didn't think I was some sort of submissive, but my usually mild-mannered warrior overcoming his insecurities because he wanted me so much was, well, arousing.

_Now if I could just get him to stop teasing me and act on that desire!_

When he finally allowed me to roll over again, I managed to rid myself of his tunic as he repositioned himself straddling my thighs. I quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering what exactly he thought we were going to accomplish with his legs keeping mine trapped and pressed together; he ignored me and leaned down to kiss me instead. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down hard against me, hoping to encourage him with my ardor; he groaned and deepened the kiss further, but didn't seem to be making a move towards ridding himself of his pants. His erection was trapped between us, so close but so frustratingly far from where I wanted it.

I finally started begging when he kissed down my neck, past my collar bone, and began circling around one of my nipples, nipping and licking the flesh of my breast without touching the aching tip. He had to restrain my hands again as he switched and gave the other breast the same treatment; I'd determined to get relief by myself, if necessary, but he held me down. I struggled briefly, feeling his chuckle against my skin.

"So impatient, love! Maybe I need to give you another massage so you can relax."

I knew if I had to live through another naked massage I'd spontaneously combust; my string of expletives at the suggestion made him laugh harder.

"Or not. I'm getting there, you know."

He lifted up so my legs weren't trapped; I had them apart, my arms reaching for him in a split second. He ignored me and lowered his head, taking a nipple into his mouth as his hand slid down my stomach to finally get where I needed it. His touch was light, but I swear between the foreplay, him biting my nipple, and his single questing finger between my nether lips, I had a small orgasm. It was unsatisfying, though, somehow, and I needed more.

He quirked an eyebrow at me while I shuddered, and I was too aroused even to blush. He settled onto his knees between my wide-spread thighs, and I hoped he'd finally get rid of the stupid pants; instead, he wiggled down further to lay staring at my hairless mound.

"You're so beautiful, Sierra." Alistair touched his tongue gently to my thigh, now liberally covered in my juices. "Mm, and you taste good, too."

Embarrassed, I tried to pull away; he held my legs in place and stroked his tongue from my opening to my clit before sucking the hard pearl into his mouth and lashing it with his tongue. Bashfulness forgotten, I reached down to run my hands through his hair and pull his face closer. He kept worrying at my clit until I stiffened and shrieked, then proceeded to lap up the copious fluids pouring out of me as I came.

The orgasm was amazing, of course, but I still wasn't satisfied; I needed something in me, and I knew exactly what I wanted. Using my grip on his hair, I pulled until he laid on top of me. Somehow, without my noticing, he'd shucked his trousers, and it seemed his patience was finally at an end; he slid into me, groaning as he hilted inside me, and then kissed me savagely. I could taste myself on his lips, and it turned me on more. Mind you, finally filled with what I'd been missing for weeks, I wouldn't have cared if he were covered in gore, as long as he kept kissing me, kept sliding delightfully into me.

He thrust slowly, but it was enough; filled, clit being rubbed by his pubic bone each time he thrust, I gasped and shuddered and writhed and let him drive me over at his own pace. When we came together, it was so intense, my vision greyed out at the edges and tunneled down to one image: Alistair's gorgeous face, flush with exertion, contorted in ecstasy and possession, laying claim in the most primal way possible.

* * *

A/N:

A nice long chapter to make up for weeks of frustration and angst. Hope it was worth the wait! And the chapter number ended up being somehow quite prophetic, didn't it?

Just to re-state: I will not respond to, nor approve comments from, anonymous trolls. They are deleted from the system as soon as you post them. You want to talk about some aspect of my story, I'm happy to - if you're polite, and give me some way of responding back to you. You comment as a guest, and be rude, you're getting ignored. You want to be like that, you're welcome to not read anything I write, because I neither need nor want your flames.

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. Many thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande, my fabulous betas.

Reviews:

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: It seems most people feel similarly about Isolde. Making Alistair's life miserable was bad enough; the stuff with Connor was just...anyway, glad you liked it.

redrosemary: I really like 'my' Cailan. I think he wasn't totally how he was portrayed in Ostagar - the fact that he told Elric Maraigne that he knew they'd lose the battle at Ostagar shows that much - and I can see him growing as a person when everyone stops shuffling him aside and treating him like a spoiled child...Glad it seemed realistic :)

Vergil1989 the Crossover King: Yeah, the first time I played I was sort of ok with Eamon, I admit, until after the Landsmeet. He's just so...he and Loghain have a lot in common - the end justifies the means. They just have different ends in mind. And then I had a long discussion with Alistair in the next playthrough that I missed the first time round about Isolde making Alistair's life hellish...and she's such a hag throughout the stuff happening in Redcliffe - treats Alistair, the Warden, and even Teagan like her own personal slaves...she could never do it without Eamon's at least unconscious permission. So yeah, not my favourite characters :) Glad Theron managed to redeem himself :)

Ajp25: Well, it won't be me drawing that. Like Sierra, I'm lucky if you can figure out the facial features on a stick figure...buit I agree, it'd be awesome. My understanding is that the Couslands are pretty atypical for Fereldan nobility - they married for love and wouldn't necessarily push their children into anything less. But heirs are still super important, so even if they sympathised, a gay noble would have...issues. Adoption isn't sufficient - the child needs to have a bloodline. I hope Cailan can keep up with his redemption. I doubt one generation will be anywhere near enough to remove prejudices against elves, mages, or anything else, but someone has to start the process, right?

Guest: The word you're looking for is an 'eidetic' memory. And I don't know that Alistair has one, necessarily, just a good eye for detail and a vivid imagination. As for Wynne...Morrigan's not the only sneaky witch-thief ;)

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: Yeah I find it hard to see Eamon and Isolde as being in any major way morally superior to Loghain...and I'm not a bit Loghain fan, obviously :) You take allies where you can find them, I suppose, but...ugh. And that voice! lol

Guest (Jamesers21, I think...): I think Sierra has already made some efforts to change certain events in Kirkwall. Between writing to Varric and recruiting Anders, she's got a few ideas. I don't, however, see her moving to Kirkwall and becoming one of Hawke's companions, for example. She'll be at more of a distance from those events, while still hoping to improve things...Eamon actually is a dick if you look at it. He sells Alistair out at a young age when he was supposed to be protecting him, he lets his wife make Alistair's life miserable before then, allows him to sleep in the dog kennels, there's the heavy implication she had him beaten. He spends a lot of time with child Alistair telling him he will never be worthy of the crown, that he's a nobody. Then suddenly Cailan's dead - after Eamon burns all his bridges trying to force a separation between Cailan and Anora - and now he wants to force Alistair to be King against his will entirely, largely because it raises Eamon's power and reputation in the Landsmeet. He never holds Isolde accountable for the events in Redcliffe...Eamon is good at acting like a nice man, but he's just...not. I have trouble explaining skills for rogues or warriors more than just strength and speed and instincts and practice, honestly. Other than the stealth thing - which seems not especially realistic, overall - their talents can largely be explained by training, I suppose...Sierra and Alistair will definitely still have bumps along the way, but hopefully they've been through enough together that they can weather them without too much trouble :)

twoifbysea: You're right about the Chantry. Arseholes, the lot of them, for the most part. And they get worse each game - pandering to the nobility, ignoring the common folk, treating mages like scum, addicting templars to Lyrium, making Seekers Tranquil, and knowing the cure to tranquility but not sharing the cure with the circles...seriously, they need a HUGE shakeup. Thedas would be much better off without, but I don't see that happening any time soon...You're right about Isolde and consequences - which is the problem with her entirely, tbh. Not enough consequences, ever. And Justice possessing a templar would be hilarious. I've also wondered what would happen if he'd possessed an elf...

Melysande: Thanks, you. For everything. You're awesome.

renegadelove: I admit I giggled a bit maniacally while writing the chapters with Eamon getting his smack down...I don't know that Sierra will be able to change the world - for elves, servants, slaves, mages...not without being totally Mary-Sue at least, but nothing can change without people willing to start to try, so hopefully at least that will happen :)

Pervinca T: If I was in Theron's place, I'd totally have made Isolde grovel...and that made it way too funny not to write :) You'll see, eventually, that 'my' Cailan has reasons even more than we know...Ew, yukc, Erlina...don't remind me. AT least Marjolaine was brief! lol

Triple T 123: I'm happy everyone was okay with forgiving poor Theron. He's a bit of a clueless idiot at times, but he's not really evil, I don't think...

Biorr the Old: Strangling Eamon, while satisfying, probably wouldn't have been good for Sierra's long-term health ;) But you're right, the cliffhanger would have been epic!

InsidiousAgent: The problem with people is that we can't admit to our own degree of denial. We can excuse a lot by burying our heads in the sand, and pretending things don't exist - sort of like Isolde with Connor. Hopefully as we grow as people we learn to recognise those weaknesses in ourselves, but I doubt it's a very speedy, or ultimately very successful proposition...In my head, even when they should, I suspect a lot of the group don't question Sierra too hard - because they see her as 'all-knowing'. And some of those discussions happen off-screen, between Aedan and Tomas, for example. And yes, some of that will probably come back to bite everyone in the arse at some point...

Egga'icious (Guest): That's what happened to the Iron Man figurine ;) Sierra had shoved it into Alistair's bedroll the day they fought, and he's just carried it around since :)

Jarjaxle: I don't think Eamon sees commoners as useless - I bet he can't bathe himself without help - he just sees them as expendable and not worth protecting. He feels like he somehow deserves to be a noble, and therefore they must somehow deserve to be peasants, to be abused. He can't be bothered to pay attention, never mind care about some random servant or child...Ha, yeah, Sera wouldn't be fond of Isolde, I suspect. An assassination is a bit much, I suppose, but it would be sort of funny to see Isolde covered in wet manure or something similar ;)

Flower248: I see Cailan as being very good at faking stupid. Not that he can't be a clueless idiot, but he fakes it even better. Makes people underestimate him...I just couldn't see sending an independent 11 year-old to the orphanage. No matter how well-meaning, he's been taking care of himself for a while, and having Kaitlyn and Bella tell him what to do and stuff just wouldn't go over well, I suspect...


	9. Chapter 73: Seven

Chapter Seventy-Three: *Seven

After surviving the Joining, it took a half hour or so for the three mages to begin to stir. They rose slowly, headaches and the remains of their nightmares disorienting them. We all sat down together in the library and answered questions about the Grey Wardens and the Blight. Being able to give them fifty years instead of thirty seemed to make things much easier, as did the improved fertility; Tomas told them he was hopeful that Wardens in the future could make it work with families. Tomas finally, reluctantly, explained the ultimate sacrifice, and though they were all sad and thoughtful, no one freaked out.

Finally, we all headed out to the main hall for supper, meeting up with everyone else.

I approached Dariel, thinking to offer him the same hug in thanks that I had Anders, but when I saw his eyes get a bit big I had second thoughts; instead, I offered him my hand, thanked him, and then left him alone.

Sten approached me before I sat down, his face grim.

"Kadan."

"Hey, Sten."

He looked uncomfortable. "I believe that I owe you an apology. I…I should not have taunted you into fighting me. And I should have been there when you woke. The bard explained to me how that would be considered respectful."

I shook my head. "No, no. It wasn't your fault. It should have occurred to me that I can't pull that move on someone quite as tall as you. And there was no need for you to spend your time staring at me sleeping. I'm fine. If you'll allow it, once I'm permitted to start sparring, I would like to try again. I promise not to try that throw again. But it was very helpful, up until I got stupid."

He looked at me for a few moments before flashing me the briefest of smiles. "It would be my honour."

He nodded his head, I nodded mine, and he headed off to sit down at the table and eat. Joining him, we all sat down as platter after platter of food was brought out; someone must have told the kitchen that the number of very hungry Grey Wardens had increased. I filled my plate full, knowing I'd draw attention if I went back for seconds; as it was, I figured I'd have to send Alistair for another late-night raid in the kitchen so I could avoid starvation. It occurred to me that if I could take the formula for the Joining and somehow make it work on Earth, I'd be the richest coma patient in no time – I'd sell it as a weight-loss tool for people in their forties.

After supper, Tomas herded the entire group of us to the library for a 'planning' meeting. Teagan and Eamon even came, to my surprise. Once everyone had settled, Tomas began.

"The day after tomorrow, we leave for Orzammar at daybreak. Before we go, we need everyone to have all the supplies they need, and all their gear repaired or replaced. If you need something, come to me or Aedan and we will ensure you have the required funds.

"And I need all of you to think seriously about whether you will accompany us further. The Wardens and Sierra are with me, but the rest of you have the option to remain here while we head to Orzammar. It is deep underground, and likely to be dangerous given the current political situation. Those who come will be allowed to choose whether to go into the Deep Roads, though I will ask the women not to. Dariel, Sten, Shale, Zevran, and Gorim – we welcome you, but you will not be forced.

"Ambassadors from the Circle Tower are here already, and we expect the Elven Ambassadors any day. Those of you who remain can work with them, see if you can figure out a way for all of us to work together.

"You can let me know tomorrow. Other than that, I recommend you all get some rest."

Gorim stood. "I'm coming. To Orzammar, as well as the Deep Roads. It's why I'm here, after all." He excused himself and left.

Sten stood next. "I too shall accompany you. I will not stay out of harm's way when the Blight still grows." He left as well.

Shale declared that she would come, with no further explanation; I wasn't surprised – I'd told her about Caridin.

Everyone else exchanged glances and then, one by one, slipped out of the library without declaration. I wasn't worried; with five Wardens, plus me, Prince, Sten, Shale, and Gorim, we'd be better off than the game allowed, by far. I had to admit, it was nice being able to travel with the larger group, not being confined to four party members.

Once it was just me and the Wardens again, Solona turned to Tomas.

"So I am coming to Orzammar, but not into the Deep Roads?"

She almost looked offended. Personally, I'd have been relieved.

Tomas nodded. "That is correct. You will be the backup, in case our mission should end badly. You will be left with Riordan and whoever he manages to bring in to end the Blight. I would not put this on your shoulders if I had any other choice, but I will not willingly take a woman into the Deep Roads, and someone needs to be left to carry on against the Blight should the worst happen."

"You're taking Sierra into the Deep Roads."

I flushed. "I'm a bit of a special case. Did Aedan tell you anything about me while you were out collecting Joining supplies?" She nodded, looking skeptical. "Right. So, I can work on convincing you later, but for now, it means I go where they go." I pointed at Aedan and Alistair. "Otherwise I could end up all alone, somewhere in the Deep Roads, with none of you even knowing I was there."

I shuddered; thinking about those horrible tunnels filled with darkspawn and giant spiders and broodmothers was…disconcerting, at best. Alistair wrapped his arm around my waist, and I snuggled a little closer to him.

Eyeing my expression, Solona asked, "Why no women in the Deep Roads?"

Tomas sighed. "When darkspawn catch men, they kill them. Sometimes eat them. Not pleasant, but at least you don't suffer for long. When they catch women…they don't kill them. They change them. Turn them into darkspawn breeders." He motioned to me. "You have a particularly poignant poem, to that effect, Sierra?"

I repeated Hespith's little tirade, and the new Wardens all looked ill. Tomas nodded. "That's why."

Anders coughed. "Fair enough, I'd say. I'll take death over that any day."

I turned to look around at the people sitting with me. "I need you to promise me something. All of you." When I had their attention, I continued. "When we are in the Deep Roads…if I am," I gulped, "taken, you must promise to kill me. Find me, and kill me. Don't let me turn into one of those monstrosities."

The pitying looks everyone gave me were galling, but it had to be said. I coerced a promise out of the five men, though Aedan and Alistair both choked up on their turns. On that sad note, Tomas closed the meeting and excused us to go rest.

Once back in my room, Alistair pulled me into his arms and held me for a while; I buried my face in his firm, muscled chest and enjoyed it. When he finally let go, he kissed me. It was a scorching hot, needy, demanding kiss, and it both surprised and aroused the hell out of me. I loved it when I could get my conscientious templar to lose self-control. Instead, though, he stepped back.

"Well, darling," he drawled, rolling his 'r' in a decidedly Scottish accent, "dae ye wish fer me tae go a hokin' fer summat tae eat, lass?"

I stared at him, open-mouthed. Not only because I had absolutely no idea what he was asking me, but also, "You do accents?"

He laughed. "Aye. Only a wee bit o' Starkhaven."

I stepped closer to him again. "What else can you say?"

His eyes flashed mischievously, and he started spouting out phrases in a perfect, though exaggerated, accent. Half of them I couldn't understand, but I got the picture when he called me a 'bonnie lass' and, when I looked confused about some of the other things he said, he called himself a 'numpty'. I stopped trying to understand what he was saying, and just listened to the sexy drawl pour out of his mouth.

I'd always liked accents – many linguists defined the 'accent' around where I grew up as actually the absence of an accent, in the English language, so anything different was awesome. Virtually any accent would catch my interest, but there were a few that just turned me to mush – Australian, for example, some British, and Scottish being probably the top three. Alistair's normal, enunciated British was sexy, but seeing that gorgeous man speaking in a thick Scottish brogue sent a bolt of lust straight to my core.

I realised he'd stopped talking and was looking at me with a smirk. I pressed up against his chest, reaching up to put my arms around his neck.

"Where'd you learn Scot-, uh, I mean, Starkhaven?"

Still with the accent, he launched into a story about another templar initiate at the monastery, a kid from Starkhaven, who was a bit of a bully; he didn't pick on Alistair, who was older, but Alistair used to shield some of the younger, more sensitive kids from his brutality. One of the best ways to redirect his behaviour was through embarrassing him about his accent – apparently, as the only one from Starkhaven, he was sensitive about it – nobles weren't supposed to speak with a thick brogue. So Alistair spent years perfecting the accent and using it to draw the ire of the bully. He didn't use any vernacular I wasn't familiar with during the explanation, fortunately, but his yes became aye, his no became nae, and he rolled every 'r' in an exaggerated fashion.

It was like he knew what he was doing to me. And maybe he did, because he didn't hesitate when I grabbed two handfuls of his hair and dragged his head down for a kiss. Desperate for the feel of his skin, I frantically worked at the buttons on his tunic, and groaning in frustration, finally just popped the last two buttons off as I bared his chest.

"Och, ya wee harpy!" he cried, reaching down to pick me up; I wrapped my legs around his waist and recaptured his lips as my hands explored the smooth expanse of skin on his shoulders. His hands cupped my rear, his impressive upper body strength easily holding me aloft. He stumbled back, his calves hitting the bed, before falling back onto the bed with me on top of him. I was quick to take advantage, my nimble fingers touching and teasing down the flat plane of his stomach before working at the laces of his trousers.

I wanted to taste him, so the moment I had his laces undone and smalls shoved out of the way, I did. He hissed as I devoured him, clearly trying not to, but unable to avoid a slight hip thrust that pressed him further into my mouth. There wasn't going to be any teasing this time; I wanted him to come undone, and I wasn't going to stop until he had. Lips, teeth, tongue, and questing fingers soon had him crying out my name, and I noted with satisfaction that he'd entirely lost the Starkhaven accent.

I curled up next to him as he recovered, and he grinned when he'd caught his breath. He slid off the bed, pushing his trousers down and stepping out of them, then grabbing my legs and pulling me to the edge of the bed. He lifted my dress, knelt, put my legs over his shoulders, and returned the favour. Once I'd come on his tongue, he allowed me to strip out of my dress and made me peak again with him sheathed inside me, filling me.

Part way through the night I had my first darkspawn nightmare in a few nights; he held me, kissed away my tears, and then made love to me again. It was the perfect distraction.

In the morning, he gave me back the rose pendant he'd bought for me in Denerim. I was only too glad to have that little delicate piece of silver back, tucked underneath my clothes beside Leliana's amulet. I kissed him passionately, and he dragged me back into the bed for an enjoyable few minutes before letting me go to redress and straighten my hair for the second time.

The day was spent getting supplies. I 'borrowed' another set of spare armour from Redcliffe's armoury, just in case the group ever split up, and then spent much of the rest of the time shopping for spices, dried vegetables, porridge, cheese, jerky, and some sort of hard, dried, heavy, bread-like substance they called a biscuit – you dipped it in soup. Alistair bought some extra canvas for tents for the new Grey Wardens, though since he and I would be sharing our enchanted tent again, we already had a bit extra; he also bought bedrolls, extra blankets, and packs. Aedan and Zev ran a crash course on extended camping for Solona and Jowan, who had apparently been useless on their mission; Anders had some skill, but Aedan was determined each of us would be self-sufficient.

I wandered into the kitchen to chat with the cook, and with her permission and help, spent some time trying to learn how to make crackers. I was sick of dry bread and the nasty biscuit, and figured crackers would travel well but also taste better. I managed to make a few passable batches, though the cook grumbled at how much salt they used. Table salt was so easy to come by, on Earth, that it never occurred to me that it would be expensive or difficult to find.

We all met in the library to distribute and pack gear in the afternoon. With all the food, the tents, the bedrolls, plus our clothes and gear, everyone had full packs, but given the expected three weeks of walking to get to Orzammar, we knew that wouldn't last. I was relieved to see Anders seemed able to keep up with everything; I'd worried his malnourished, weakened state would be a problem. Though it occurred to me that maybe he was just running on rejuvenation spells. I resolved to ask Wynne later.

Jowan was a bit irritatingly anxious about everything, but Solona managed him remarkably well. It was clear they'd been friends for a long time, and she was used to him being fussy. I wondered how he'd manage in the Deep Roads without her. Anders just sighed every time she was kind to Jowan, and it became quite comical. She'd speak, Anders would sigh, she'd roll her eyes, Jowan would clear his throat nervously, and then it would all start again. I met Aedan's eyes and had to look away before we both burst out laughing.

Once our shares of the group's gear was distributed, Alistair and I took off to shower together. We didn't have sex, but just played and splashed and laughed, freezing ourselves under the water and huddling together to warm back up. It was nice to know we could be naked together without it being so serious. Not that I had a problem with the sex, of course, but just plain fun was all too rare, and I cherished it.

Supper was awkward, again, with Isolde glaring, Eamon ignoring, and everyone else trying not to laugh at my irritation. After, I hugged Teagan, who I refrained from teasing about Kaitlyn, and Theron, who then wandered over to have an awkward, if endearing conversation with Alistair. I turned to Blake.

"You be good while I'm gone, okay?"

He sniffed and nodded. "How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know, Blake. At least a couple of months. More, probably; it'll be six weeks just getting there and back, never mind however long it takes us actually in Orzammar."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know. But hey, you'll be alright with Theron. He'll protect you. And if the Arlessa gives you any trouble, you just run straight to Theron. Okay?"

He rubbed irritably at his eyes, and I drew him into a protective hug. He wrapped his skinny arms around my waist and buried his face. I caught Theron's eye and gave him a look, before pointedly glancing at Blake; he nodded, and I knew he got the message to take care of the sweet child while I was gone.

We all went to bed early, knowing we needed the rest before our long journey. Alistair and I made love, and then spent half the night talking and kissing, despite our early wake-up call. The morning came too soon, and I glared balefully at the weak morning light coming through the window before crawling reluctantly out of bed.

There were fourteen of us when we left, including a golem and a mabari. Dariel chose to stay behind, hoping to meet with the Dalish Ambassadors and gain acceptance with them. Wynne also chose to stay, to help see to Connor's education, and work with the Circle Mages to develop group fighting tactics. I had spoken with her about seeing if they could find ways to extend their range with spells that could help bring down the Archdemon – particularly anything with ice, or paralysis – something to foul its wings.

As usual, Morrigan flew overhead to scout. I carried my own packs – they were heavy, but I was stronger since becoming a Warden – so that Alistair, Aedan, Sten, and Shale could help the three new Grey Wardens, as well as Morrigan, carry their gear. None of the mages were used to carrying heavy packs, and I felt slightly less bad about myself when I had to slow down to accommodate their pace. Months of walking and sparring had forged me into someone far more capable than the scared, useless little girl I'd been when I arrived. I smiled, took Alistair's hand, and headed off down the road.

The trip to Orzammar was really quite uneventful. No bandits wanted to cross the path of fourteen well-armed travellers, so they left us alone. We did run across a few groups of darkspawn, but the largest group was maybe twenty, and between seven Grey Wardens, four mages, and two of us able to disable Emissaries, none of them posed a serious threat. I even got to fight a couple of times, openly walking past darkspawn who ignored me entirely, only to stab my daggers into their flanks or reach around to cut their throats.

Sometimes, in the evenings, Alistair would pull out his roll of parchment and some pencils; he'd never let me see until whatever he drew was finished, but each drawing was almost a masterpiece. And I managed to convince him to draw things other than me, at least sometimes.

I gathered elfroot, trying to be surreptitious, while we walked, and joined Morrigan to use her mortar and pestle to make little healing potions for myself.

Leliana often walked with me, peppering me with questions about Earth and its customs. There were a lot more diverse cultures on Earth than were known on Thedas; not for the first time, I wondered what was past the limits of the maps of Thedas I'd seen. Was it a planet, round like Earth? Or some sort of magical land that was flat? No one knew, it seemed.

After much discussion about diversity, Leliana narrowed in to asking questions about my culture, about how I'd grown up. We talked about women's rights, work, military, art, music…she found it fascinating. And the fact that there were no 'nobility', only rich and poor, and that with luck and skill (or lack thereof) someone's fortunes could change dramatically definitely interested her. Aedan was impressed with the absence of arranged marriages, since as a noble, before the Blight, he'd have been expected to marry and provide heirs; the whole group was dumbstruck by the fact that power passed to those elected to hold it, not passed through blood lines. Who someone's father was didn't define who they could be. Though said father's money could help, of course, if someone wanted to go to school or into a business that took money to start…

We had a whole morning's worth of conversations about weddings and betrothals. Leliana thought the whole 'white gown signifying purity' thing was hilarious, and everyone was surprised by the concept of wedding rings. In Ferelden, couples exchanged gifts, but the idea of marking someone as being taken, with identifiable jewelry, was new to them. It made sense, though – within the nobility, everyone would know who was unmarried, and the common people wouldn't have the means to either buy jewelry, or move much beyond the borders of where they were born, so likely knew who in their town was still single.

One night, when I was on watch, Solona came stumbling out of her tent, retching; knowing the likely cause, and having been through the same thing, I sat with her while she trembled.

"Darkspawn?"

She nodded. "But not just the usual. There was also some…thing. It sort of looked like a dwarf, at least the head did, but it had lots of breasts and tentacles and…"

I put my hand on her shoulder. "It's a broodmother. It's what happens to women who are captured. It's why you aren't going into the Deep Roads, nor are Leliana or Morrigan." I was selfishly sort of glad someone else had broodmother dreams, not just me.

She took a deep breath. "I'm suddenly not at all offended by that. So…you're really going into the Deep Roads?"

"I don't really have much choice. Every time that I've been separated from Aedan and Alistair, since I came, I ended up disappearing and landing in the middle of something. I don't want to be trapped alone in the Deep Roads. I just can't not go."

"You scared?"

"Terrified. Completely and utterly." I laughed bitterly.

We sat silently for a bit, Solona watching the fire, me watching the darkness and paying attention to my darkspawn sense. Leliana joined us, and I smiled as she sat near us.

"Did we wake you, Leli? Sorry."

"No, no, my friend. I just couldn't get comfortable."

"Don't like sleeping on the ground?"

She grimaced, and Solona groaned sympathetically. "Well, not all of us have a handsome warrior to use as a mattress."

I grinned and blushed; Solona rescued me from my embarrassment. "What's it like?" I must have looked confused, so she clarified. "Where you grew up. You said there's no mages?"

We spent a while talking about Earth. She couldn't seem to decide whether to be fascinated or perturbed by the lack of magic. "So if I was born there…would I just not have magic? Or would it just be impossible for me to be born there?"

"No idea. Before I came here I didn't know magic was an actual real thing. I always thought it was a fascinating – if highly unlikely – fantasy. Frankly, I didn't know there was somewhere else for people to be born to, either."

"So do you hate mages?"

"Maker, no! Why would you ask that?"

"People often seem to dislike what they don't understand, or at least, fear it."

"I think magic is marvellous. If it wasn't for the Chantry's idiocy – sorry Leli – for their short-sighted lack of tolerance, I'd love to be a mage."

Leliana looked scandalised, and Solona rubbed her nose to hide a grin. "But aren't you a templar? That's what Anders said."

"I'm…sort of. I have some templar skills, but I obviously wasn't trained. Alistair's been working with me, but I still can't smite. And my skills have nothing to do with faith or the Chantry. It's an inherent ability because I resist magic more than most. I think having the abilities you do would be wonderful."

"Oh, you'd like to be able to throw a few fireballs, would you?" Her grin was teasing.

I laughed. "Only when Aedan pisses me off." Leliana even chuckled at that. "No, mostly I'd love to be a healer. I've seen some pretty horrible illnesses and injuries that we just can't do anything for, there. To be able to heal…well, I'd do that, if I had a choice."

Solona glanced at Anders' tent. "Yeah, healers are something special." Her expression was hard to read.

To my chagrin, Leliana didn't listen to the obvious lack of desire to discuss a particular healer. "So what happened with you two, anyway?"

Solona sighed, and I threw Leli a dirty look. The bard just shrugged, unapologetic.

"If you don't want to talk about it, Solona, it's fine," I offered.

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks. But…it doesn't matter if I tell you, I suppose." She paused. "Anders and I, we grew up together in the tower. He was always the one who helped me, protected me…I fell in love with him. I thought…I thought he loved me too. But then, after we were together, he just…well, let's just say monogamy isn't in his vocabulary. And after a while, he started trying to escape. It felt personal. He'd usually run after we'd argue about his indiscretions. He was running from me, as much as from the Tower."

I thought about what I knew about Anders; as much as it was clear she thought she was telling the truth, something just didn't sit well with me. It didn't sound like the Anders I knew from Awakenings, or DA2. Not that he wouldn't sleep around, not that he didn't try to escape – because obviously he did – but…I couldn't put my finger on it. She was suffering from a misconception, somewhere, I just didn't know where.

"Did he ever say why?" I cringed at Leliana's ongoing insensitivity, which was so unlike her.

Solona shook her head. "No. He'd claim he was doing it for me. Like laying with someone else was something that could, in any way, benefit me. But I was weak, and I just let him. Finally, before the last time he escaped, I broke it off with him. He was hurt, and I was so angry. I hadn't seen him since. I'd heard he was in the dungeon, but even if I could have visited, I don't know if I would have."

I put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Solona. That's a despicable thing he did; no one deserves that."

She forced a smile. "The part that bothers me the most is how much I want to just forgive him, to just fall into his arms and pretend like it never happened."

"I know that feeling." I sighed. "I doubt there's anything as bad for us as handsome men."

"I can't see you complaining…I've seen the way you look at Alistair."

I laughed. "Yeah, but you should have seen us a week ago. Not that dissimilar a situation, actually…we were in love, and he did something phenomenally stupid. It took me a long time to forgive him. I know, after everything, he won't hurt me like that again."

"I don't see that kind of happy ending for us."

"Neither did we, a week ago. Give it time." I squeezed her shoulder.

She turned away, hiding her face; I wondered if there were tears flowing down it. "Anyway, I'd better get back to sleep."

"Goodnight, Solona. And if you ever need to talk…well, you know where to find us."

* * *

A/N:

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. A million thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande, my fabulous betas.

I've either lost half of my usual readers, or March has been a rough month for everyone! I'm feeling much less love than usual, and I'm going to pout! Please, please send me some reviews. Ill add an incentive...there will be some sort of reward for a reviewer once we hit 1000 reviews. What sort of reward, you ask? I have no clue. But I'm open to ideas. What would you like if your name was drawn?

Reviews:

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Well, awesomesauce is, you know, awesome :) I have a real-life friend who uses it constantly...he's a real estate mogul and he uses it at work all the time. Makes me laugh.

Ioialoha: How's this chapter for Ali-meat? *giggle* Anders...well, he's got backstory, and because of when/how he was recruited and Sierra's knowledge, he's not going to be quite like any of the other Anders's I've read. I hope you'll like him...sort of nervous, actually...

Pervinca T: Yep, the as-yet unnamed doctor on Earth has a hell of a headache most days after trying to take care of Sierra ;) I contemplated killing off Jowan, but I figured that'd be too obvious. And I'm trying not to totally GRR Martin it ;) There will be some character death at some point, though, fair warning...Hope you liked the girl talk!

ex-ellent: Ha! Sadly Sierra doesn't look that much like Eleanor or Bryce...dark hair, but that's about it. But I have plans for Fergus...*rubs hands with glee*

jamesers21: If that qualifies as a cliffhanger, you've probably got another year of weekly cliffhangers coming, my friend :) I do have a lot of characters to juggle, and it gets worse as I go! I'm trying not to forget any of them and lose track, but I'm sure you guys will let me know if I do :) I haven't run into not wanting to write in a long time, I have to admit. Usually it's the opposite - I'd like to write, but I have to work or take care of my kid or something. The motivation probably comes from being excited to see how everyone will react to the next *thing*, whatever that is - a plot twist, a change to canon, a funny episode or sex scene or whatever...reviews help with that :) I do run out of ideas, at times, at least consciously, but I have enough general plot outlined that I can carry forward and let my characters go rogue and add their own twists rather than consciously invent twists.

ShellyGamerGal: Gah I hope your knee is okay! I've had five knee surgeries...her injury was patterned off one of mine - so I can sympathise. I have my fingers crossed for you. Next time, don't throw the Qunari, ok?

InsidiousAgent: See? This is why Jowan didn't die. Because I knew you all thought he would, and I can't have that ;) Entropy is fairly awesome. And hugely creepy, at least in my head. Vivid mental images are a curse ;) Me as a child? Insufferable, stubborn, goody-two-shoes, geek. Not overly adorable, I wouldn't think ;)

Reploid Avenger: Welcome! I'm glad you're enjoying it. I was so flattered when this got included in that collection! Her Earth body is a problem. All I can say is thank goodness for universal health care! I can't even imagine that conversation with an HMO ;)

Ethizen: Ha! The number of people who tell me they're replaying Origins just to be mean to Alistair makes me LAUGH so hard! Yeah, I see Sierra as a lovey-dovey drunk...followed by gastrointestinal pyrotechnics and inconvenient passing out :) "I love you all so much..." *hurl* *snore*

Guest: Changing the story is exactly the point of this story. Unintended consequences can be...awesome, or totally painful. It can go either way. So you're right, the ANders/Justice thing is HUGE, and if she manages to change it or prevent it, what will happen? That's the part that's fun to try to imagine, for me :) I know, the alias thing is annoying. Necessary but irritating. Sierra hates it too, believe me. As do I, and my poor betas who try to catch when I bugger it up ;) You're right about Sten, and Shale. And I suppose it's been a while since we've seen much of Zev, hasn't it? The cast is getting bigger, and it's hard to have time for each companion. Not to mention some of them are INTENSELY hard to write! Oghren...*sigh* don't even get me started :)


	10. Chapter 79: Can You Feel Me Now?

Chapter Seventy-Nine: *Can You Feel Me Now?

We'd barely made it through the door when Alistair kicked it shut behind us. He set me carefully on the bed, then took the platter of food from my hands and put it on a table. Climbing up bedside me, he curled himself around me and pulled me into his embrace. I relaxed, enjoying the comfort and closeness, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against mine. Even after the bath, I didn't really feel warm. It felt like the cold in the dungeon had settled in to my bones, and I was having a hard time getting warm again.

When he felt me shiver, Alistair rolled us to lay me across his chest and pull up the blankets on the bed. It felt a bit ridiculous being clothed in bed, but it was warmer, so I wasn't about to object. His heartbeat thumped slowly in my ear, and I closed my eyes to listen to the soothing sound. His hands came up to stroke my back, and I practically purred.

"So what was it this time?" he asked, dragging me from my reverie.

"Hmm? What was what?" I lifted my head so I could look him in the eye.

"What drove you back to Earth?" he clarified.

I blushed, and he gave me an intrigued look. "Nothing. It just occurred to me that it had been a while since I'd gone back, and I was worried it would happen while we were in the Deep Roads."

He sighed, and I echoed him. When nothing more seemed forthcoming, I laid my head back down on his chest. We cuddled together like that for a few minutes, and I felt my eyes starting to drift closed. Suddenly they flew wide open as he reversed our positions, rolling me over and landing on top of me. He grabbed my wrists, gently pinning them above my head. I squeaked in surprise, and he silenced me with a sudden, passionate kiss. I relaxed into it as he swept his tongue through my mouth to engage with mine.

He pulled away, panting, his eyes almost black with desire. I wiggled my hips, rubbing myself against the bulge I could feel through his trousers, and he hissed.

"So…Avernus says that your leaving is voluntary, right? That you only go when you want to?"

I nodded, confused by the subject matter. "Yes, bu-"

He cut me off with a finger to my lips. "We are going to test that theory."

"Wha-?" I mumbled around his finger.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to give you the motivation to stay. So from now on, if you go back, if you disappear, you will be…punished."

"Punished?" I might have been creeped out, if the mischievous glint in his eyes hadn't made it obvious that this was a game. At least, sort of a game. _I hope._

He nodded, and I felt one of his hands slide down my side, brushing against my breast before continuing down my hip to my thigh. I gasped as he gathered the material of my dress and slid his hand underneath, all without letting go of my wrists.

"Punished how?"

"I think it will be more fun to show you, actually."

"I haven't agreed to this, you know."

"Doesn't matter. It's a promise I'm making to you, right here and now. Leave me again, and you will be punished." He leaned in and whispered huskily in my ear. "Don't worry. All you have to do is hold still. You can do that, can't you?"

I groaned as he parroted back my own words from Denerim, but couldn't deny that a thrill of arousal travelled down my spine in response. My hips twitched, underneath him, and he grinned.

His hand crept up my thigh, stroking my bare hip softly. "Do you know what you did to me, sitting in my lap all through dinner with no smalls? Are you trying to kill me?"

I smirked and wriggled against him again, and he stilled my hips with his as he pulled my dress up slowly. He briefly let go of my wrists to pull the dress over my head and toss it carelessly to the floor, then kissed me as he captured my wrists again.

"Stay," he whispered, and let go again to push himself up, kneeling between my thighs. I watched avidly as he pulled off his tunic, my eyes roaming over his impressive chest; I moaned out loud when he unlaced his trousers and his erection popped out, enormous and straining and beautiful. I spread my legs a little bit and wriggled, anticipating him taking me hard and fast and desperate.

Instead, he settled back down, his belly in the V of my thighs, and used his hands to tilt my head before slowly buzzing kisses along my jaw, stopping to lick my ear before continuing down my neck. He nuzzled my collarbone, then continued further south to find my pebbled nipple with his lips, while one hand teased the other. I almost came when he gently closed his teeth around the little bud, and I writhed beneath him.

He backed off and began planting little kisses all over my breasts, alternating sides, nibbling lightly on the sensitive skin, and then sucking until I knew he'd left marks. _I'm going to be covered in bruises tomorrow…_I moaned in disappointment when he stopped, but gasped as I felt his tongue tease at my little belly button. He then kissed his way down over my hairless mound, settling in between my thighs.

I was already soaked, I knew, and I quivered in anticipation of his touch, but it didn't come. I lifted my head to look down, seeing him staring intently at me, his cheeks flushed, and his breath ghosting over my lips. When I almost couldn't take it anymore, he finally, slowly approached and I moaned as the tip of his tongue tickled down along my slit. I bucked, needing more, but he reached around under my thighs to pin my hips with his big hands.

He tsk'ed at me. "Moving already? For shame."

I blushed and flopped my head back onto the pillow. I felt his tongue again, but this time he licked firmly from my opening, all the way up over my sensitive pearl, and I cried out. He returned to tease against my opening, waiting until I whispered his name, begging, before he pressed the thick muscle inside me. I continued chanting his name, encouraging him on, as he began an in-and-out action that was driving me wild. I wanted to writhe, the pleasure of something filling me too much, but his hands holding my hips did not let go, and instead I just fluttered uselessly against the restraint.

When I couldn't hold out any longer, my hand, of its own accord, came to rest on the back of his head, encouraging him on, stroking through his beautiful blond hair. That must have been his cue, for he slid his tongue up and over my pearl before finally sucking the little nub into his mouth. I cried out, so close to orgasm, but he was careful not to increase the pressure, to hold me there, while his hands relentlessly kept me from bucking towards the source of my torment.

Just before I thought I would go over the edge, he stopped. He rolled to one side, climbing back up to lay alongside me, leaving me panting and whimpering in thwarted pleasure. He recaptured my wrists, again holding them crossed above my head. He idly played with one nipple, deliciously pinching and rolling it between his fingers. It was exquisite torture, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek.

Leaning in to kiss away my tear, he whispered, "Next time you leave me here," he flicked my nipple and licked the shell of my ear for emphasis, "when you get back, I'm going to do this, get you worked up just like this, and then..." He paused, and I could practically hear the smirk on his face. "Leave you. Desperate and needy and so close you can almost taste it. Do you understand?"

He flicked my nipple again, and I moaned and shivered. "Yes," I whispered, not able to even voice my desperate plea.

"And you agree this is a fair punishment?" He stroked my breast lightly.

I'd have said anything he wanted to hear to be allowed to come. I wasn't even listening to what I'd agreed to. "Yes."

"And you promise not to leave me again?"

"Yes, yes, anything. Alistair, please!" I shuddered in discomfort.

"Say it, Sierra. Say you'll never leave me again. I want to hear it."

"I'll never leave you again. I swear! Please, Alistair!"

He left me there a few more moments, still pinching and rolling my nipple, keeping me desperately aroused, but not enough to orgasm. His gaze roving over my face, finally he nodded and his hand left my breast. Before I could even protest, he slid two fingers into my very wet crevasse and began rubbing firmly on either side of my stiff pearl. I came undone in seconds, so overwrought from his earlier ministrations; I keened, sobbing, legs twitching spastically as the sensation took over.

I noticed with the remainder of the tiny rational part my brain that Alistair was moving, and before I'd even started to wind down, he had rolled on top of me and sheathed himself while I still convulsed. He began sliding inside me, drawing out my orgasm, groaning as he was caught in a contraction.

It occurred to me, in my lust-filled haze, that I could feel the taint in Alistair's veins, like I had felt it in the dungeon. It was like darkspawn, but different, tickling at the edge of my consciousness, stronger the closer I was to the source. As close as I was to Alistair, it was intense, and I could feel him as he thrust into me, then feel it lessening as he pulled out. It felt like not only was he entering my body, he was thrusting into my mind. It was overwhelming, and I cried out, wrapping my arms around his neck, hooking my heels behind his thighs, encouraging him on.

He roared as he finally came deep inside me, and I shuddered through his irregular thrusting and twitching as his orgasm took him. My muscles clenched around the invader and I clung to his neck with abandon, panting into his shoulder as he collapsed down onto me. We stayed like that while we calmed down and our heart rates slowed; he knew I liked him to stay put for the afterglow.

"I can feel you."

He snorted. "That's not exactly a surprise, love, after what we just did."

I giggled and clenched my muscles, triggering a groan and a twitch. "Not that! I mean, yes, that too, but I was talking about the taint. I can sense you. I could in the dungeon, too, though I had assumed it would be Solona."

I could hear his smile. "And what does it feel like?" There was longing in his tone.

"It's sort of like the feeling when someone is staring at you when you can't see them. It tickles at the back of my mind."

"I mean, what do I feel like? Does it feel different than Solona?"

I considered, extending out my senses to judge the two different sources of taint, one near and one farther away. "It does. I never noticed."

Solona felt like sadness, like the moment after the break-up in a romance novel, the moment after the main character dies in a television series. Penetrating sadness was all I could feel.

Alistair felt like… "Sunshine."

"What?" He finally rolled off me, pulling me in to cuddle against his chest as we lay facing each other.

"You feel like sunshine. Warm and happy and optimistic, shining like the sun on my face." I basked in the sensation.

He laughed, blushing scarlet. "I'm…flattered, I think?"

I wrinkled my brow in confusion. "Why flattered? It's just how you feel."

"Yes, but the way you feel a Warden is the way you see them. Your impressions of them flavour the sensation of their taint – it reflects your impression of them, not who they really are. So you see Solona as being sad, and that's how she feels to you. And apparently, you see me as sunshine." He shook his head. "I'm not feeling very manly with that description, you know."

I giggled, curling in closer. "If you could feel what I feel, with that scorching hot sunshine inside me when we're making love, you wouldn't be worried about that. That was…intense."

"I wish I could feel you. I wonder what you'd feel like? Duncan's never mentioned it, but I overheard some of the others talking about how overpowering it is when two Wardens…" he blushed more, and I grinned, "get together. I wish we could share that. I'm glad the darkspawn can't either, of course, but I just wish the Architect had left you alone."

I was momentarily sad about that; it seemed like it might be the only redeeming feature of the taint. But I couldn't be too upset for long; I was with the man I loved, he had come for me against all odds, and I could now feel my own personal sunshine any time I needed it. _And I know exactly how to cheer him up._

I pushed on his chest, and he rolled onto his back in surprise. I knelt beside him, pushing the blankets down further to expose him entirely. A sheen of sweat covered his muscular chest, his hair was a mess, and he had a beatific smile on his handsome face as he gave me a similar once-over. Looking down further, he was still semi-erect, laying against his thigh.

I leaned over, giving Alistair quite the view, and lifted his cock with my hand before licking it from root to tip, tasting our mixed secretions. He immediately started to harden, and I smiled. I repeated it, before looking up to lock gazes with Alistair for one brief moment.

"Can you feel me now?"

I engulfed the head with my mouth, and his chuckle turned into a ragged moan as I suckled gently while using my hand to caress his shaft. When he was fully hard and thrusting slightly with his hips, I released him and swung my leg over his hips, sheathing him inside me in one swift move. I rode him to mutual completion as he alternated stroking my tender nipples and my overwrought clit.

We slept snuggled together, smiles on both of our faces.

When I woke, Alistair was looking down at me, expression guarded. Or guilty. Or something.

"What's that look for?"

He flushed and looked away, only to end up staring at my breasts. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Looking down myself, I realized I was covered in hickeys. There were several on each breast, and more up my chest; I assumed my neck was probably covered as well. I reached down and poked one of the darker bruises; it didn't hurt.

I looked back to Alistair, using my fingers to tilt his chin back up, waiting until he looked me in the eye. "Oh, honey, it's fine. They're not bruises, not really. They're hickeys. They don't hurt, honestly." I appraised them critically. "I sort of like them, actually. A reminder. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to take a potion or something, or Aedan will probably lose it when he sees me." I sighed. "Too bad, really."

Alistair still looked apprehensive; I leaned in to kiss him soundly. "I wouldn't mind if you kept the marks somewhere that won't show, next time, but don't worry about them. Seriously."

When he looked ready to object, I kissed him again, and then again, until we had both forgotten what we were even talking about.

When we finally emerged, later in the morning, the guard came around to question us about Jarvia. When I explained that I'd been kidnapped, their questions became less judgemental and more sympathetic, and giving them the papers we'd recovered from Jarvia's office didn't hurt either. They were quick to assure us that there would be no political ramifications for the Wardens from the untimely demise of the entire Carta, or from conscripting Faren. They were happy enough to deal with the Carta member paralysed in an equipment trunk on the Proving Grounds as well, and thanked Solona profusely for not allowing something untoward to happen to the Proving.

Faren had a bunch of questions after his discussion with Leli and Solona the night before. I wasn't convinced he believed me, but at least the level of hostility had toned down significantly. _I suppose he'll believe it when I disappear next…which I won't, if Alistair has anything to say about it_. He was pleased to hear that his sister was pregnant with a boy (even if he remained skeptical), which would make her an Aeducan, though less pleased when he remembered that we were supposedly supporting Harrowmont.

"Not really, though. Honestly, Faren. I will do anything in my power to make sure Rica and her son are okay. We're looking for Sereda, and if we find her, we'll ask her to recognise Rica's son as an Aeducan. She'll need an heir, after all, and she sounds…reasonable, from what I can gather. Worst case scenario, you can bring her and the kid to the surface with the Wardens."

He didn't seem entirely placated, but he wasn't threatening me or glowering at me, so I called it a victory.

"Shouldn't you know if we will be able to find the Princess, if you know so much?"

"I don't know everything. In my world, my options to interact with this one were very limited. There was a script. Several things have gone off script since I've been here, and the changes I brought about have knocked a few others off. It's sort of complicated. But essentially, in the game, they never let a Warden go looking for Sereda. The assumption was that she died, and that was all they wrote. But without me, the Wardens wouldn't have gotten Gorim to open up, so wouldn't have known about the possibility that she lived.

"It's all a bit…confusing." I shrugged uncomfortably. _I hate talking about Earth and the game. My life is here now, I wish I could forget about the rest…_

"Faren…" I debated continuing my sentence, eventually deciding I had to say something. "I'm sorry. About Leske."

He looked away, his jaw clenched. "Not your fault. If it hadn't been for you I'd probably have killed him instead of setting him loose in that dungeon. Stupid bastard; I don't know what he was thinking."

"He was thinking he wanted to make amends. To give you a second chance. Don't demean his choice by calling him stupid, Faren. In the end, he loved you and Rica, and that's valuable."

Faren closed his eyes, and I wondered if he was fighting back tears. "And I won't forget."

I hesitantly set my hand on his shoulder, pulling it back when he flinched. "If there's anything we can do…even if you just want to talk…"

"Thanks, but no thanks. I appreciate the thought, though." He turned and walked away, and I watched him until he climbed the stairs leading to the room he'd been assigned.

Alistair and I spent the rest of the day cuddling, and chatting with Leli and Zev, who were trying to draw out the details of what had me so freaked out the night before. I told them about the threat to remove a finger as proof of life, and Leli hugged me sympathetically. I didn't want to admit that a lot of it was killing my first person. Regardless of how necessary it was, I felt sick over the loss of life, but I didn't want to say that in front of my chosen family, all of whom had killed people in the past, some of them to defend me.

I knew Alistair could tell what I was trying to avoid saying, though, when he squeezed my hand and saved me by changing the subject.

I asked Leli and Zev to show me how to fight unarmed; they were surprised until I explained my little tussle with Tooth. We cleared some of the tables out of the middle of the room, and Faren surprised me by joining in my training. I actually found unarmed combat easier than armed, and they were able to expand my repertoire of moves, so I didn't have just the one throw in my arsenal. I wasn't exactly going to qualify for the MMA league, but at least I had a few things to practice for self-defense.

After lunch, and replacing the tables under Mistress Leta's baleful gaze, Alistair dragged me back to our room for a 'nap', in which no sleep was had. We kissed and talked and made love, then talked and made love some more, until we emerged for supper starving and rumpled. Zev muttered bitterly under his breath, and I assumed he was missing Aedan. Leliana gave me a wicked smile and a wink. Faren and Solona just ignored the obvious signs of the nooky we'd been having.

We spent the evening playing cards, or at least, everyone else did. Not only did I not know the games, I was useless as a poker player, so I watched. To no one's surprise, Zev and Faren split the pot pretty evenly. Everyone was grumbling as we got ready to head to bed when the main doors to the estate opened, and in walked Duncan, Aedan, and all of our other companions.

They were covered in grime, but otherwise uninjured; I resisted throwing myself into Aedan's arms, since I didn't want to need another bath. We took turns telling each other about our experiences; telling Aedan about my rescue from the Carta had him giving Zevran a heated kiss and threatening everyone else with a grimy hug. Then Duncan told their story.

"She's not in Aeducan Thaig, though she's been through there, I suspect. We rescued Lord Dace from a darkspawn attack – I thought it was supposed to be deepstalkers, Sierra?" I shrugged; Maker only knew what liberties BioWare had taken with the details of the deep roads missions_. I just hope they were accurate with location of the Anvil._ "He is willing to support our candidate, whoever that should be. I was non-committal. Sadly one of his men was tainted, but he managed to survive the Joining. This is our newest Grey Warden, who prefers to be called Bel."

I hadn't even noticed the extra dwarf in the party, so focused was I on my brother and my honorary father. Bel pulled off his helmet; he was dwarven, obviously, but strangely enough, entirely bald. He had no facial hair whatsoever, and I was startled to notice he even lacked eyebrows. And there was no sign of stubble, either. I tried to hide my strange look, but a dwarf without a beard still weirded me out a little, Sandal not included.

"At any rate, Lord Dace mentioned weapons and armour missing from chests that require an Aeducan signet to open, so it seems Lady Aeducan is armed and made it at least that far."

We exchanged smiles. I really hoped that we'd be able to find Sereda; if not, I was going to have to recommend crowning Bhelen, and I really didn't want to.

As I thought about it, I noticed that Faren, behind me, was standing rather stiffly, his face a distant, expressionless mask that wasn't like him. Following his line of sight, I saw the other dwarves, Gorim and Bel, giving him the evil eye. Oghren was apparently drunk, if the snoring from the floor was any indication, so he apparently had no opinion on the subject.

Stepping over to Faren, I put my hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly. He returned my smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Sighing, I dragged him over to the two dwarves. I made the introductions, though they all seemed to have some idea who each other was, or obviously at least what caste they were. I'd thought there might be issues with Gorim and other dwarves, or between Oghren and virtually everyone; I hadn't considered how Faren would be received. I made a big deal about Faren killing the guard, and helping me stay sane in the dungeon, as well as killing Jarvia, and then basically forced the men to shake hands, which in Ferelden meant grasping forearms. All three dwarves scowled at me, but I just gave them my most vapid, pretty smiles, and they all blushed and dropped it.

Faren finally walked away, stiffly, and I grabbed Bel and Gorim each by the forearm, turning them to face me.

"Faren is going to be a Grey Warden." They nodded, so I continued, "He is your brother now, Bel, whether you like it or not, and a damn hero. So I do not want to ever hear him being called 'Duster' or 'Brand', are we clear? Or you will have to deal with me. Yes?"

Both avoided my eyes but bobbed their heads in what I chose to accept as a nod. Seeing that the returning party had already cleared out, heading, I assumed for the bathing chambers, Gorim and Bel grabbed Oghren under the arms and dragged him towards the hallway where the baths were. I wasn't looking forward to a repeat performance of scrubbed, pink, nearly naked dwarf, but he desperately needed a bath. Between alcohol, urine, and darkspawn blood, there was no choice.

I approached Alistair and he put his arms around me as I burrowed happily into his chest. "In the morning, when we leave our room, you're going first."

"Wha…why?"

"Never mind. Did Duncan say when we'd be leaving?"

"As soon as everyone who's going is awake. I suspect he'll give us about twelve hours of rest before setting out."

"Good." I went up on tiptoes and reached up to pull Alistair down for a kiss. "Take me to bed, then, serrah."

"Your desire is my command," he replied, making me shiver despite the mischief in his eyes.

Before I could do anything to stop him, he'd picked me up and jogged down the hallway to our room. I could hear Leliana and Solona laugh behind me as our door slammed shut.

He made love to me that night like a man possessed; he was insatiable. And I understood – we were about to head into the Deep Roads, and Maker only knew when we'd have the chance to be together again like that. And the Deep Roads themselves were stressful enough a concept, never mind adding in that I could disappear when we were down there. _Not if I have any say…I'm not risking Alistair's 'punishment', if I can help it…_

In the morning, people filtered out of their rooms one-by-one, and we all met in the main hall. Eventually we were all there, and Duncan had those of us going to the Deep Roads begin packing. We needed food for the entire group for at least a month, by everyone's best guess, which was not the easiest thing to manage. All of the warriors ended up carrying multiple packs, and the rest of us had our own, lighter though not inconsiderable packs as well. Once we were all ready, we bade those staying behind – Leli, Solona, and Morrigan – goodbye, and headed into the Deep.

* * *

A/N:

Finally! The Deep Roads!

We are so close to the thousand reviews...a good response to this chapter just might get it there! I'll think of some sort of reward and draw a name next week, so get your reviews in now! (No seriously. Please. I'm begging.)

As always, I don't own Dragon Age, I just play in their sandbox.

A million thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande, who beta this story and make it a million times better.

Reviews:

Ioialoha: Yeah I'm not sure I'd ever learn to cope with the concept of 'kill or be killed' - so Sierra's freak-out seemed reasonable to me :)

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: Sometimes sad is just necessary. Sorry not sorry! ;)

Reploid Avenger: Sierra will be stuck in Thedas if Alistair has anything to say about it! :) I'm rather partial to cutesy Al and Sierra myself, if you hadn't guessed...

Aliens of Doom: I try not to repeat the same stuff too often, tho sometimes it is necessary just to see the direction the conversation will take...but I do try :)

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Poor Leske...he sort of went rogue on me, there. Not my fault, I swear.

Vergil1989 the Crossover King: Other than the obvious villains (Beraht, Jarvia) I mostly feel sorry for the Carta. Poor schmucks had no way to make a living, no way to defend themselves from unscrupulous Carta bosses...thus why they tried not to kill them all. But I did not enjoy the run in game, and very much had fun changing it. Now to do the same for the Deep Roads!

Enchantm3nt: I'm sad you didn't trust me not to make Orzammar suck less than in game ;) The deep roads will also stray from canon...Keeping track of everyone requires a spread sheet. Wardens highlighted in yellow, rows for locations, columns for time periods. Yeah, apparently I hate myself...Sierra's totally freaking out about the killing. But honestly, who can she talk to? Not one person in their group understands. All of them have killed - at least in self-defense, some for profit - and she doesn't want to rub their faces in it. She'll just...bottle. Because that's the healthy way to deal with emotions :)

Star (Guest): I work very hard on keeping a schedule! Not easy...but it's why I have a bunch of chapters already done and ready to go, for when real life gets in the way of writing.

thinkdragonage: Rest, as I've said, is for chumps ;)

Ajp25: Sierra's business background do make her at least vaguely adept at negotiations. She may not know the politics, but she knows people, at least in a business sense :) Player characters are hard to write - they have no default personality, so I have to make them up. Which should be easy, but isn't because I'm not a casteless dwarf or whatever so I have to imagine their life...I'm glad you like Faren, in short :) I suspect Leske joined the Carta out of necessity, but he didn't seem like a total bastard, so there had to be some reason he'd backstab Faren. And I needed him alive as extra motivation for Faren not to give up and die in the dungeon - Faren wanted to survive long enough to get revenge. And yeah, Orzammar should have been epic, and wasn't. So I fixed it :) As for killing...Sierra had some serious time to think trapped in that dungeon. A big reason she was there was because she wasn't willing to kill to defend herself...and thus never trained well enough to do so. She's not happy about the necessity, but she's finally come to the realisation that she can't be so pathetically helpless against anyone except darkspawn...In my head, several of the dwarves (Oghren, for example, and Faren) were raised by or at least molded by women just like Mistress Leta. She scares the crap out of the humans, for the most part, but Faren and Oghren seem to be able to resist her evil eye at least for a while...not that it saves them forever, as evidenced by Oghren being bathed ;)

Pervinca T: Sierra does go for showers often when she wakes, but yeah, ending up in Thedas with nothing but a bath towel isn't her idea of a good time. But she is, slowly, getting used to a lower standard of hygiene. She still bathes ten times more than anyone else, and several of the others have taken to following her example to be nice...but she's gotten past daily bathing and the lack of shower facilities...I'm glad everyone seems to like Faren!

InsidiousAgent: Yeah, not a Jarvia fan :) But now she's a stain on stone floor, so I suppose I can forgive her...Faren, in my head, is a DAO dual-wielding warrior. As is Duncan, FYI. They got rid of that spec in the other games, but it made sense to me - it is sort of a middle-ground between rogue and warrior, but without the dex/cunning to be a true rogue. It fits for Faren, who would indeed have learned from experience, not any sort of training, and would be a little less rigid, and the same for Duncan, who was a thief but has had to adapt. Sort of like Loghain, actually - once an archer, now a sword-and-board warrior. We won't see a lot of detail about Solona's spells for a while - she's not coming to the Deep Roads, and a lot of her stuff is sort of...not flashy, though exceptionally deadly. I'll try to find somewhere to put some in later, just for you ;)


	11. Chapter 80: Road to Hell

Chapter Eighty: *Road to Hell

Fourteen of us waited inside the massive dwarven gates which led to the Deep Roads: Aedan, Alistair, Duncan, Jowan, Anders, Gorim, Bel, Oghren, Faren, Sten, Shale, Zevran, Prince, and, of course, me. For a moment I was a little bit concerned about being trapped with eleven men and only Shale for female company, but quickly realized it was silly. Neither Alistair nor my brother, honorary father, or brother-in-law would allow anything untoward to happen to me; the darkspawn were the threat, not my companions. For all their issues, with the exception of Bel who I didn't know at all, they were all honourable men.

Which was a good thing, because the gates, manned by a dwarf on massive winches on either side, were opening. _It's too late to change my mind._

A blast of uncomfortably warm, dry air assaulted us the moment the seal was opened, and that answered the question of why we didn't have tents and many extra clothes in our packs. The smell of sulfur was strong, but there was also an odour of dusty, unpleasant decay that I could have lived without ever experiencing. Even the naturally stoic Sten wrinkled his nose, which was strangely sort of…cute. _You know you've been in Thedas too long when the Qunari is 'cute'._

The Deep Roads, I had been told, were mostly lit by lava pools and falls, which probably explained the sulfur smell and the warmth, but there were torches lining the corridor in front of me as far as the eye could see, and we each carried a handful of torches 'just in case'. We knew we'd have to cut through several crosscuts and darkspawn tunnels to get to Bownammar, and some of those may not be well lit. We also carried a couple of the enchanted lanterns we'd stolen from Soldier's Peak. Jowan and I each carried one, specifically; we were the least effective fighters of the group.

I couldn't sense any darkspawn, though the tickling feeling of the other Wardens around me was grating at my nerves. Some of the guys carried their weapons in hand, but I figured that wouldn't last long. No matter that we knew we were in for several unexpected fights, fatigue would eventually win out. I left my own daggers securely in their sheaths, slung about my waist on a leather belt.

Gorim and Duncan led the way, and after one, last deep breath, I followed them in the middle of the pack of us. Gorim had painstakingly planned our route through the labyrinth of roads, crosscuts and tunnels on Sereda's maps, and we would be going from one Legion supply depot to the next as we made our way. I shuddered slightly as I passed from Orzammar, with its wide-open ceiling and warm light into the dim and oppressive tunnel.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and another grasping mine in sympathy, and I smiled at Aedan and Alistair in turn. Duncan had assigned them as my protection detail, not that he could have stopped either of them from doing it, and they were both taking it seriously, flanking me wherever we went. I didn't mind; I needed the reassurance.

Fortunately, once we were past the dwarven door leading out of Orzammar, the ceiling rose a bit again; Sten had to duck through the doorway, but in the Deep Roads proper, he had several feet of clearance. It made the ambiance merely oppressive, instead of completely, stiflingly, panic-worthy. The heat was tolerable, for the moment, but I was sure I'd be wishing for less warm clothing as time went on. And the smell didn't improve the further we walked. I had to admit, however, that the Deep Roads were an impressive feat of construction. Only ten feet across at their narrowest, they sometimes as wide as twenty; the ceiling rose far above us at every crossroads. Bridges spanned rivers of lava, and channels encouraged the lava to run parallel to the Roads for a while, keeping the lighting just bright enough to make torches unnecessary.

The few days we'd had with little activity, compounded by captivity for me and Faren, meant we didn't get all that far the first day. We encountered a few deepstalkers – roughly the size and annoyance of dragonlings, irritatingly – and after Sten and Shale stomped them all into paste, we continued on. We had full bags – I knew eventually we'd be smoking and eating deepstalker, and I'd had a serious discussion with my stomach and my Warden appetite regarding that, but we didn't need to resort to that yet, and we didn't have anywhere to store the meat if we tried. So we continued on until I had to stop. Faren collapsed onto the ground the moment Duncan called a halt, so it wasn't just me. He'd done far better than we had any right to expect.

Without tents, we pretty much went to sleep wherever we could manage, after eating some bread and jerky. I slept cuddled to Alistair's broad back, and I noticed Aedan and Zev doing the same. Bel woke us once with darkspawn nightmares, but otherwise the night passed uneventfully. I dreamt, and they were strange, surreal things, but at least I didn't scream. With seven Wardens, we only had to take watch every second night, and to my eternal gratitude, I didn't have one the first night. Alistair did, but he stayed at my side and held me while he watched. I couldn't claim to have been truly comfortable, sleeping in armour on hard stone, curled up against cold dragonbone plate, but it was as close as I was likely to get for some time.

When we woke – in the morning, according to the dwarves, though I certainly couldn't have proved it – we set out again, and I felt better able to keep up with the pace. I worried a bit about Faren, with months of captivity and not yet having Grey Warden stamina, but he seemed to be coping better as well.

He was talking to Duncan at breakfast, asking about the Joining, and getting the usual, vague, lack of information that was the company line. I grimaced and stuck my tongue out at Duncan, who choked on his dry bread; Faren slapped his back a few times to help him clear his windpipe. I walked away as I heard Duncan explain that we'd actually need to find some darkspawn before we could perform the ceremony.

Either Duncan or Aedan must have made rules and explained them to the men, about doing their private business in private, and keeping their pants on around me, because I was thrilled not to get an eyeful of male potty functions before we broke camp. I claimed a little area behind some rubble for my own ablutions, and Alistair kept everyone away until I was ready. Peeing just wherever was a bit, well, odd, and somehow sad given the former majesty of the Deep Roads, but there weren't exactly port-o-potties, so I shrugged and did what I had to do.

We got going with little fuss. As we walked, I spent a little bit of time trying to get to know Bel, with limited success. He'd barely speak, kept his helmet on most of the time, and I don't even think he looked at me directly. I finally mumbled my excuses and dropped back, disheartened. I wasn't even clear if he knew about my unusual situation, and I'd certainly had no chance to explain it.

Oghren invited himself to take Bel's place as my walking companion for a while. I guessed that I was going to be annoyed by Oghren, as I'd never really liked drunk people much, but I also felt sorry for him; he was about to discover the hard way that his wife wasn't at all who he thought she was. And I'd been avoiding him since we entered the Deep Roads because I didn't want to be the one to tell him.

"Don't mind him," he said, gesturing towards Bel's back and speaking much too loudly. "He's got a st-st-stutter, and he doesn't like to talk. Nothing personal, Toots."

I stopped feeling sorry for the red-haired dwarf quite suddenly. "Oghren! That was plain mean, and if you ever call me toots again, I'll slap you so hard your head ends up facing the wrong way."

He belched, and a waft of stale, ale-smelling breath passed by. _At least he smells better than he did, thanks to Mistress Leta..._ "Oh, don't go getting your smalls in a twist, Toots. I know you women can't resist me, but I'm a married man, you know."

I couldn't help it; annoyed as I was, I had to laugh. _At least I know who'll be the comic relief for this trip._ Aedan, behind us, smacked Oghren on the back of the head, followed by some colourful dwarven cursing, and I laughed even harder.

To my relief, I discovered that Aedan had filled Oghren in about my situation. It made sense – he would have been entirely confused about the commotion surrounding my disappearance, and they'd had no choice but to explain to both Oghren and Bel. That didn't mean either of them accepted the story, by any means, but at least I was saved having to explain it.

"So Pretty Boy here tells me you know where Branka's at." I strangled a laugh at Oghren's new nickname for Aedan, and my brother shot me a dirty look. _I wonder what he'll end up calling everyone else?_ "I'm curious how that happened, I have to admit."

"It's in the game, Oghren." We'd decided to be honest and tell at least our permanent companions it was a game. _I don't want a repeat of that accidental reveal, that's for sure._ "You know what Branka was after: the Anvil of the Void. And you know as well as I do that she's become obsessed. She went through Caridin's Cross, then to Ortan Thaig. She found some records or something that told her that the Anvil is in Bownammar. So she's there, now, trying to navigate Caridin's traps."

"My Branka's the smartest dwarf in Orzammar. She'd be able to solve any nug-humping puzzles set up by some long-dead Paragon in no time."

I sighed. "Caridin isn't dead. He's a golem." I looked down at the ruddy-faced dwarf. "She doesn't have the manpower, Oghren." _And she's not your Branka anymore._ I refrained from voicing that observation aloud. "She lost a lot of people getting to Bownammar. And many in the house weren't warriors."

I hesitated, and Oghren gave me a piercing look. I knew from the game that he wasn't half as oblivious as he acted, but I was suddenly acutely aware of that under his sharp gaze.

"By the stone, spit it out! What is it, woman?"

I wondered what I'd done to make him dislike me. _Was the bath that bad?_ "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this. The traps…they're lethal, Oghren. If you don't do them just right. She…" I winced, "ran out of people to use as fodder. She let them all die. All of them that weren't taken by the 'spawn. And all that's left of those is Hespith. And Laryn, technically, I suppose…" I shuddered.

"Just sodding say whatever you're dancing around, would you?"

I stopped, and Oghren's shouting drew everyone else's attention as well. I lost my temper. "Do you know what a brood mother is, Oghren?"

"Pretty boy filled me in when we were in Aeducan Thaig."

"Right. Well, Branka…she allowed some of the women in her house – Laryn for sure, and Hespith, but there might have been others – to be taken and turned. She knew about brood mothers. She locked them in and used them to breed unlimited darkspawn to send through the traps, hoping eventually to make it through. Laryn's already turned; Hespith is halfway there, and mad to boot."

"Ancestors' sodding ass, you're the one who's mad. My Branka would never…"

"Yes she would. If you think about it hard enough, you'll realise. She's out of her mind, obsessed, and won't allow anything to stop her. I think you know she's capable of it."

"You're a sodding liar, you are. Just because you're his whore," he gestured to Alistair, "doesn't mean I'm going to listen to a sodding thing you say."

Alistair and Duncan, who'd been at the front of the group, turned to race in our direction; Aedan, who'd been walking with us, pulled his dagger and had it angled up under Oghren's chin before I could even blink.

"You have one chance to rethink your last statement, dwarf, or it'll be the last statement you ever make."

I held my hand up to stop the others, then put it gently on Aedan's arm, sliding my fingers up to grip the knife and pull it back from where it had just barely pierced Oghren's flesh. "Aedan. Stop. It's okay. He's upset, and understandably so. Let it go."

"Let it go? He called you a whore."

"And how many that we've met have said – or thought – worse? It's not worth it. It's okay."

"Don't do me any favours, whore. I can take this nug-humping-"

"Oghren. _Shut. Up_!" I was exasperated.

Aedan growled, "You want me to just let this little cretin-"

"Aedan." My tone had gone hard and unrelenting. I tried to soften it. "You don't know him like I do. Please." I tugged at his hand, still holding the blade. "Please."

He searched my face for a moment, for what I couldn't say, but finally nodded and withdrew his hand, sticky with Oghren's blood. "I'm watching you, dwarf. One word, a single one, and we will pick up where I left off."

Oghren slapped his hand to his neck, glaring daggers at me, Aedan, and anyone else whose eye he caught. I motioned for Anders to heal him, but the dwarf stomped off, muttering under his breath, before he had the chance. With an apologetic glance my way, Gorim went after him. Aedan wiped his hands on a rag, as Alistair walked up and wrapped his arms around my shaking frame, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. I don't blame him. I just told him his wife's a monster. How would you feel?"

"I still want to kick his ass," Aedan grumbled.

I laughed. "Oh, me too. But I'll just leave him alone for a while. Once we get to Bownammar, he'll understand."

Alistair kissed me, softly, then leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Every time I look away from you for five seconds you get into trouble."

I chuckled, then threaded my gauntleted fingers through his, and gestured to the group to get moving.

Shale lumbered up beside me as we got underway. "Does It wish me to squish the drunken dwarf? Because I could. Easily."

"Thanks, Shale, but I'll be fine."

"As It wishes, then." And she rumbled away to walk beside Sten, silently. _It's really weird how well those two get along._

We encountered our first group of darkspawn after ducking into a side tunnel that led away from the main road we'd been following. Gorim's map showed a cave-in between us and the intersection we wanted, and the Legion had dug out a short-cut to avoid the unstable area. We lit our torches and unsheathed the arcane lamps as we entered the dark aperture.

Apparently the darkspawn had found it and started digging; there was a large, irregular cavern where there should only have been a narrow tunnel, and it was full of darkspawn. Fortunately, they had started fires, so visibility wasn't a problem; unfortunately, I couldn't see what they were burning, but I had to guess it was a corpse, based on the sickening smell of the haze permeating the air in the tunnel.

We sensed the darkspawn long before entering the larger room, and organised accordingly. Shale ripped a chunk of rock out of the side wall of the tunnel, prepared to throw; the sword-and-shield warriors closed ranks and held up their shields to provide maximum cover, and everyone else readied weapons. We advanced as a group, the mages at the rear, and immediately drew fire from a couple of archers at the back of the room. I couldn't sense any magic that didn't belong to Jowan or Anders, and I told the rest of the group there was no Emissary.

Once the initial volley of arrows had struck and Shale had launched her projectile into a group of hurlocks, the shield wall advanced, and Duncan, Aedan, Zevran, Faren, Sten and I slipped around the edges to enter the fight. I skirted the edge of the cavern, keeping out of the way of stray arrows or magic, as the others flanked the first wave of hurlocks to attack the shielded warriors. My goal was the archers. Not seeing me coming meant I was the best option to cross the room efficiently and take out their long-range capabilities.

And it worked; I paid slight attention to the melee, almost laughing once as an arrow pierced the back of a hurlock's neck by mistake, but the group was faring well. I scrambled over some rubble to walk up behind a genlock, reach around before he knew I was there, and slit his throat from ear to ear. It wasn't easy; no matter how sharp weapons are, it actually takes more pressure than I'd have expected to get deep enough to sever the artery, but I had experience and it worked the first time. The corpse dropped at my feet, thick black blood pooling underneath, and I edged further along to the next one.

By the time I'd taken out the four archers, the group had massacred the rest of the darkspawn. Zevran and Aedan began looting the bodies – laughing at me when I called it that – while everyone else wiped darkspawn blood off their weapons. Alistair came up to me and kissed me fiercely, but said nothing. _Smart boy._

I had to admit I didn't enjoy the long, slightly winding, narrow tunnel we had to creep through, but I fared better than Shale or Sten. The Legion had made the tunnel large, by dwarven proportions, which meant it was between five and six feet tall, depending; I fit fine, and Zev had no issues, but all the other humans had to duck at times, and Shale scraped the walls and ceiling as she walked, sometimes striking sparks. Sten crouched as well, a string of curses like "Vashedan", which periodically made me giggle, earning myself a disapproving glare from the giant.

I was grateful enough when we reached a main branch of the Deep Roads to admit that I was claustrophobic. _Just a little bit._ We extinguished our torches, packing them away, and took a minute while Gorim and Duncan debated markings on the map. Once they picked a direction, we headed off again.

We stopped at a small Legion of the Dead way station that Gorim had identified. It was nice: there were sinks, of a sort, with runes like those in the estate in Orzammar, small alcoves for privacy with a few sleeping cots, and even a stone door that could be closed and barred. We still set a watch rotation, but we felt protected for the first time in two days. We took turns cleaning up, and decided as a group to sleep without armour, for once. Exhausted after a long day of fighting, the Grey Wardens, Faren, and I met at the back of the cavern. Faren had collected his darkspawn blood from one of the hurlocks we'd fought, and Duncan had Anders prepare the Joining potion.

Faren grimaced, upon glimpsing the chalice, but didn't look surprised. I shook my head ruefully when Duncan glanced at me. _It's not like the use for the blood is rocket science. What else would you be doing with a potion vial full of blood?_ Duncan explained that the blood was the source of the Grey Wardens' strength, and then, to my dismay, asked Bel, who'd not spoken the entire day, to recite the words.

The stutter was highly unfortunate, I reflected listening to Bel try to get through the words "Join us, brother," and without discussing it, everyone else began reciting with him. I was surprised to see that once his voice was no longer the loudest, his stutter improved dramatically. _Clearly, anxiety makes it worse._

I contemplated that as Faren drank the potion; I was the only one not nervous. I knew any Brosca would survive. Alistair caught the dwarf as he fell back, his eyes rolled up into his head, and laid him gently down on the nearest cot. He was breathing, and everyone took a deep breath of relief.

Jowan offered to pull a cot nearby and stay close, in case he needed anything when he awoke, and the rest of us scattered to our own alcoves to get some rest.

There weren't enough cots for everyone, and seeing as Alistair and I wouldn't have been able to share one anyway, we opted for the floor. We made a little nest of blankets to sleep on; the air was warm, heated by the lava as it was, so we didn't need to keep any blankets out for cover. We had chosen an alcove as far away from the rest as possible, and as Alistair sprawled out beside me in just his thin linen sleeping pants, I was glad all over again.

I happily gave in to his passionate kiss; I didn't think we'd have any opportunity to be together in the Deep Roads, but as long as we were quiet, we could get away with it easily. Alistair's mouth on my neck was insistent as the kissing grew more heated, and I tangled my fingers in his somewhat shaggy sandy-blond hair, trying to stifle a moan of desire. His hands roamed my torso, stopping to torment my breasts periodically, before skipping away, making me squirm. Impatient, I pulled up the thin shift I wore for sleeping and struggled to tug it off, dropping it beside us absently.

I lay, sandwiched between Alistair and the wall of the alcove, and bit my knuckle as he proceeded to shower my breasts with attention. The bruising had mostly disappeared with the healing potion I'd taken before we left, but certain spots still made my skin sing with remembered pleasure and pain when he licked and kissed them. I hissed and dragged his mouth to one aching, diamond-hard nipple by the hair, and he chuckled under his breath even as he engulfed the little pebble with his lips. He switched sides, teasing me, and I writhed silently beneath him.

At my urging, he finally rid himself of his trousers, and gasped as I took his hard length in my hand. It felt good, knowing the arousal was for me; powerful, somehow, and I stroked the shaft a few times in appreciation before Alistair pushed my hands away.

He slid between my thighs and sheathed himself inside me like we'd done it hundreds of times before; he was perfect, his width stretching me deliciously, avoiding bumping my cervix, and I groaned and humped my hips uselessly at him when he just held still deep inside me. When he finally started to move, the relief was palpable; my arousal climbed rapidly, and I covered my mouth to stifle any noise when I came, the pleasure and relief of being with him and knowing all was right in the world almost overwhelming my embarrassed need to remain quiet. Alistair captured my lips with his own to muffle his own grunt of completion, and then we both collapsed, boneless, in our nest.

We kissed and caressed, sweetly, not sexually, and prolonged our post-coital bliss a while longer, but eventually the certainty that someone was going to come around looking – and that someone, more likely than not, being Oghren, knowing my luck – spurred me to sit up and retrieve my shift. Alistair wriggled into his trousers, and then spooned behind me, shielding me from our companions as we fell deeply asleep.

Aedan woke me for my watch with a gentle hand on my arm; I crawled, reluctantly, out of the cocoon of Alistair's protection and trudged over to sit near the stone door, exchanging nods with Shale and Sten. With nothing else to do, I marvelled at the amazing stone architecture of the Deep Roads. Even this insignificant chamber had lava channels near the front, for light and heat, but far enough away that the back alcoves were in deep shadow. If it had a window or a skylight it would have been more comfortable than anywhere we'd stayed to date, except the Pearl and Redcliffe's castle.

Sadly, according to Gorim, the further away from Orzammar we travelled, the more rudimentary the Legion's supply depots were. Near the front they'd have a barracks of sorts, but this was likely to be the last relative safety we would encounter.

I had never learned how to keep track of time without a clock of some variety, and I'd left my phone with Leli, so after a while I was grateful when Bel approached for his watch.

"'Morning," I greeted him, my voice hoarse with disuse.

He nodded, but remained silent. _At least he's not wearing his helmet._

"Look, I hope you can just ignore Oghren. He's an ass, at times, but it isn't personal. Don't let him get you down."

He nodded again.

"Are you that embarrassed by the stutter? I promise you, I won't make fun of you. I had a friend in school with a stutter; lucky for her, we had a teacher with some training in speech. She managed to learn how not to stutter. But I'd never tease someone over something they have so little control over."

"It's w-worse when I-I'm nervous," he responded. His voice was deep and pleasant, if you ignored the hesitancy and the stutter.

"Why are you nervous? We seem to be quite safe here." I shifted around, double-checking the cavern and the door for security issues I'd overlooked.

"That's n-not why." He appeared to be blushing, though it could have been a trick of the light.

"Is it me? I promised I wouldn't tease. I'm no bully."

"N-n-no. I do- I do- I d-don't me-meet many wo-wo-women!"

"Oh! I'm sorry, Bel. If it's any consolation, I don't bite."

He chuckled at that, and I smiled.

"Y-you said your fr-friend learned to st-st-stop?"

"Oh! I should have thought of that. Bel, I know how. I was there when she learned. It takes a while, but it's manageable. Would you like me to try to teach you? It would be good experience for getting used to talking to other girls, too." I winked at him, and though he blushed scarlet, he smiled and nodded.

"Alright. The first part…well, it would be easier if Leliana were here, but here goes. Do you know how to sing?"

I spent probably an hour teaching Bel rudimentary scales. His deep baritone was quite lovely when he hummed along to the lesson; he had at least a passable ear. And I'd managed to get him to sing, just once, the words to go along with the notes: do, re, me, fa, so, la, ti, do. To his shock, and my delight, he didn't stutter. Which was the point: it's virtually impossible to stutter while singing.

I left the lesson there; if my experience was anything to go by, I'd have to get him singing entire songs before I could talk him into trying to sing his sentences instead of speaking them. My friend had been totally embarrassed at first, and it took a long time to gain confidence. I hoped that dwarves didn't have any sort of stigma against singing in public, and that I could recruit Leli to help once we got back to Orzammar, but I thought I had a chance at getting him stutter-free before the blight was over.

I went back to bed, snuggling in to a drowsy Alistair with a brief kiss on the forehead, and fell asleep listening to soft, deep humming.

* * *

A/N:

I may have to decrease the frequency of posts for a few weeks - family stuff, a kid who doesn't like sleep, and too much work have me struggling to find five minutes to eat, nevermind write, and I don't want to burn through too much of my backlog, since I have such a tendency to write myself into a corner, and then have to go back and change things or add stuff. I'll probably post every second week for a little while - I apologise in advance.

That said, we passed 1000 reviews! I shall draw a name and announce the winner - and the prize - with my next chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who read, reviewed, favourited, followed, or in any way encouraged me to write this. You guys are amazing, and without your support I'd never have made it this far! And, you know, just sayin'...reviews help with motivation to write even when I'm short on time and busy. In case you were wondering...

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. A million thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande, my fabulous betas.

Reviews:

thinkdragonage: What can I say? I like steamy ;)

SadnessAndSorrow: No one liked the deep roads in game, I don't think. Here's hoping my interpretation shows the grandeur, but also the darkness and horror, without all of the annoying running in circles...

Vergil1989 the Crossover King: What can I say? I enjoy the concept of Grey Warden stamina ;) Alistair's punishment would be awful, if he was actually able to carry through...there's nothing worse than being left just shy of a mind-blowing orgasm...

OnkelJo: No punch Alistair! You might ruin that fabulous nose...

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: Yeah, I think I should like to be punished like that...*sigh*

Reploid Avenger: Yeah it would be fun showing Alistair around, but I don't see that happening. Can you imagine explaining that in the hospital? "Don't mind the guy in plate armour without ID. He's with me."

Ioialoha: Classicism in the dwarves is problematic, no doubt. I'm hoping these guys can learn to appreciate each other for their obvious skill...plus I don't see Duncan putting up with that BS. He'll smack some heads together until they all behave...

twoifbysea: We don't know what's happening with the taint on Earth, if anything. It will be interesting when she does get back there...she definitely never pictured a zombie apocalypse as a possible outcome of becoming a Warden...

Flower248: I imagine if Sereda is as obsessed with the Legion as Gorim says, she'll know what they eat...what's safe, and what's not. Classicism amongst the dwarves is problematic. However, compared to Oghren, Faren's downright likeable, so that should help...

MusicologyMom: Alistair can feel the taint...he just can't feel Sierra. Somehow her taint doesn't show up for darkspawn or Warden senses...

zillah1199: Yeah, Inquisition will be...interesting. I have some ideas, haven't quite decided how that will play out. As much fun as it is for us when she goes back and forth, Alistair doesn't enjoy it so much :)

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Jarvia isn't anyone's favourite person, that's for sure. Good riddance.

Star (Guest): Nooky is sex :) And Sierra wants Alistair to leave first so she can hide behind him and avoid seeing the naked Oghren butt :)

Ethizen: It's only foreplay if he actually continues from there...if he leaves her wanting, I'd say that's pretty punishing ;) And yeah, anything is better than playing the deep roads ;)

InsidiousAgent: The number of wardens is getting rather huge, no? I have a spreadsheet full of characters and locations and times so I can keep track of everyone...It's hard to give everyone enough time with a cast this big. Especially when I only write from Sierra's point of view...she's around Alistair the most. But it should improve over the next while - less privacy, more group time, not so much nooky, more fighting...you'll have to let me know.


	12. Chapter 86: Foot, Meet Mouth

**This is the explicit version of this story; if you prefer non-explicit, please see There and Back Again under my profile!**

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**Chapter Eighty-Six: *Foot, Meet Mouth**

Even though it was getting late when we came to the well-lit area that I knew led to the gates to Orzammar, no one was going to stop. We pushed on, too eager to be out of the Deep Roads to camp, and arrived at the gates in the middle of the night. As such, they were closed and locked, but Duncan knew the secret to opening the complicated structures, and he showed each of the Wardens so we would all be able to do it in an emergency.

He explained that the doors were anchored by dozens of feet of circumferential metal more than a foot thick, which was melded right into the stone all the way around using some strange dwarven technology he couldn't explain. They were unbreachable even by ogres and magic, and to anyone's knowledge, the darkspawn had never managed to tunnel around one.

There were two very surprised guards, who looked like they'd woken from a nap, when the doors at their back swung open, and more than fifty dwarves and a group of Grey Wardens poured through. As previously agreed, almost all of the dwarves wore full helmets, so that Sereda and Gorim could pass unnoticed. Scrambling over themselves to welcome us back to Orzammar, one of the guards ran to get the captain, though Duncan tried to convince them not to bother.

The captain was less than impressed by the late-night disruption, but was polite enough when he realised who Duncan was. He urged us to head to the estate, which was not difficult to convince us to do, and we parted ways with the Legion. Kardol promised to come to the estate the next day, and went his own way.

When we finally reached the estate, we crept in quietly, hoping not to disturb anyone. We needn't have bothered – apparently gossip travels fast in Orzammar, and Mistress Leta was expecting us. She was in a housecoat and had her hair up, but despite that was her efficient, no-nonsense self. She had us leave everything except personal items in the common room, vowing to have someone take a look in the morning and clean what could be salvaged, burning the rest.

She organised us into lines for bathing in each of the three rooms containing a bathtub. With a sparkle in her eye, she informed us that no one would be sharing a bath that night, since there were too many of us who needed in there and we tended to take too long when we bathed with friends. I was impressed she managed not to look directly at Alistair or me while making the announcement, and was too tired to be too disappointed by bathing alone.

I was allowed one of the first baths – Mistress Leta made the others draw straws, but ushered me directly into a room with the water already drawn, and Sereda, after the requisite kneeling and bowing, was put in the room next to mine. It was probably sexist, and I didn't care in the least. I found a bucket and filled it with water, first just rinsing myself off fully dressed, before I peeled myself out of my now-wet leathers and did it again naked. I piled the destroyed armour in a corner – it was definitely going to need burning – and proceeded to use a washcloth and another bucket of water to scrub the worst of the filth off my skin. It had been more than a week since we'd used the rune-sink in Bownammar to clean up, and even that hadn't been thorough. The black water I sluiced down the drain was evidence enough of that. I washed my hair in the bucket next, using a harsh soap meant for that exact purpose.

Finally satisfied that I at least wouldn't have to sit in a tub full of filth and taint, I climbed in. The water was bordering on too hot, that perfect temperature where it makes skin tingle without causing too much pain, and I sank down into with a sigh. I didn't soak for too long – there were thirteen people who needed a bath as badly as I did, plus a mabari and a handful of golems who'd need to be scrubbed – so after a brief dunk, I scrubbed myself clean again, using the nicer soaps Leliana always seemed to find us, and then washed and conditioned my hair and got out of the bath. I left brushing my teeth 'til last – I'd long ago run out of toothpaste, but had gotten some baking soda from the kitchen and used that.

All I had clean were dresses and nighties, so I slipped into the nighty picked out by Mistress Leta and opened the door. I'd beaten Sereda out, and could hear the angry shouting of what must have been Oghren being forcibly bathed by Mistress Leta. Poor Alistair had drawn the shortest straw, apparently, and was going to have to wait to bathe last. I resisted hugging him and soiling my nighty, and instead headed to our room to wait.

I was exhausted, and as much as I knew I wanted Alistair, I was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen before I'd gotten some rest; somehow, though, despite the fatigue, I wasn't ready to lay down and go to sleep, either. I tried, briefly, but the bed was too soft, the blankets too warm, the pillows rustled too noisily…I was up again in less than five minutes, trying not to hyperventilate. I puttered about the room, adjusting pillows and blankets and just generally wasting time, noticing all the while that the walls seemed awfully close, and were pushing in on me more and more as time went on. It was embarrassing, as I knew in my head everything was fine, but my heart rate skyrocketed and I felt short of breath; I had to escape. With a panicked squeak, I slipped out the door into the corridor.

I could hear all the commotion from the bathing rooms down the hall, and decided against going down there; I'd end up getting dirty again and needing another bath. _And I don't want to admit that I'm too scared to lay down alone._ Instead I wandered, eventually making my way to the library, where I chose a book somewhat at random and curled up in a convenient armchair to wait for everyone to be done.

Sereda joined me a few minutes later; she also picked a book, and sat staring at the pages without reading. We sat together in companionable silence until others slowly started filtering in. Bel came in, nodded at both of us, and tucked himself on the floor in a corner, not even bothering to pick out a book; Sten walked in and stood quietly against a wall, looking strange and uncomfortable without armour. Faren was next, followed by Duncan, Jowan, Anders, Gorim, Aedan, Zevran, Prince, and finally Alistair.

No one spoke. _This is surreal._ I ran my fingers through Alistair's soft, damp hair as he sat at my feet and put his head in my lap; I squeezed a hand here or there, but otherwise all was completely silent. Once everyone had settled in, sprawled on the thick carpet or various pieces of furniture, I finally fell asleep.

Duncan woke us once with ungodly screams, remaining confused for some time afterwards; Anders went in search of one of his sleeping potions, and once Duncan was out cold, we all settled in again. Leliana, Solona, and Morrigan found us there the following morning, waking us with a tinkle of laughter. All of us who'd been in the Deep Roads, with the exception of the golems who were apparently being washed in the dining hall, were there, blinking owlishly at the intrusion in our much-needed, rather uncomfortable sleep.

Grumbling and generally cranky, everyone rose and limped towards the dining room for breakfast. No one explained what had brought us all to sleep in the library when we had perfectly good rooms with beds just down the hall; I wasn't sure I knew, if I was honest. I just knew I couldn't stand being alone, and apparently neither could anyone else. I suppose it was just another puppy pile – on carpet in a library, but still.

Once everyone had been fed, we spent about half an hour telling the stories of all our adventures in the Deep Roads, and making introductions, for the benefit of Sereda and Caridin. Oghren wandered in after a while; the only one not to join the puppy pile in the library, he'd apparently passed out drunk in his room after being washed. I got the impression he didn't remember the bath – he wasn't angry enough – though clearly he should have suspected something, since he wore nothing but a pair of oversized trousers that kept threatening to fall right off.

_They'd have to shave more than his back to call him an elf._ I choked back a laugh, averted my eyes, and continued in the lively discussion with the girls we'd left behind.

It turned out they'd had some adventures of their own; Leliana had acquired a nug as a pet, unsurprisingly named Schmooples, and Solona had been convinced to do every annoying side quest in Orzammar that I remembered from the game, and then some. She'd agreed we would - eventually - escort Dagna to the Circle Tower, rescued a woman from Dust Town whose family had tried demanding she abandon her child in the Deep Roads, run the Lyrium smugglers who'd tried to take over from the Carta out of town, and made an agreement with Brother Burkel that she'd support his bid to open a Chantry if he agreed to run a school for Casteless children in Dust Town. And then she'd hounded every Casteless family in Dust Town to ensure they'd send their child to the new school.

Kardol arrived as we were all admiring Schmooples the nug - though I was fairly certain that, for the dwarves at least, admiring was mostly imagining the beast roasted on a stick - and he laughed with us as Leliana scooped her beloved pet up and carried him off to her room before anyone could go beyond imagining.

Given that everyone who'd come with us to the Deep Roads was still exhausted, we decided that we would petition the Assembly for a hearing the next day, and then boarded ourselves in and refused to answer the door. I had dreams of alone time with Alistair, but was interrupted by Leliana, Solona, and Morrigan, who dragged me off to talk privately. I shot an apologetic smile at Alistair as I was whisked away; he grinned and me and blew me a kiss when no one was looking.

It seemed being basically alone together had been good for the three women; Morrigan had never seemed to like Leli, but she tolerated her now, and Leli had stopped making comments about how she would 'fix' Morrigan's appearance. Morrigan seemed to have some grudging respect for Solona, while Solona and Leliana were giggling together like old friends.

The girls seemed concerned at how I was coping since seeing the broodmother, and I shuddered as I described my horror to them again. Nothing could quite compare to how disgusting, and smelly, and slimy that creature was, and how glad I was we had slaughtered it. And then I remembered having to fight more of them in Awakenings, and had to close my eyes and forcibly relax before I threw up.

Once satisfied that I was managing, and that being alone with all those men for such a long time hadn't damaged me in some way, Leliana and Morrigan wandered off, leaving me alone with Solona. The mage had a curious look on her face, and I waited silently to hear what she would say.

When nothing seemed forthcoming, and the pregnant silence grew uncomfortable, I spoke.

"Solona? Everything okay?"

She jumped, and I stifled a giggle. "Um, yeah. I'm fine. I just..."

I took pity on her. "You want to know how Anders handled it down there?"

She nodded, and I saw unshed tears glisten in her eyes. "He's never liked dark, confined spaces."

"No, he sure doesn't. But he was okay. Better than I expected, actually. Maybe it was having all of us there, maybe it's that the Deep Roads aren't quite as claustrophobic as a dungeon cell, or maybe it was just a facade to cover up his discomfort, but he did almost as well as any of us."

"He left me a letter, before he left." I nodded; he'd told me. "I haven't opened it yet. I...Do you..." She trailed off, looking helpless.

"Do you want me to open it for you?"

She looked startled. "Would you?"

I nodded. "I would, though I don't need to, honestly. Want me to tell you what it says?"

She thought about it for a minute. "Yes. Please."

"It says that he still loves you, and that he wants a chance to explain. There were circumstances you aren't aware of, things that happened before you met, that drove his behaviour; and rather than explain it, he tried to protect you from it."

She scoffed. "Excuses."

I shrugged. "Yes, they are. He was stupid, and he should have known better. That said, you sure you don't want at least an honest apology?"

"The circumstances…you know? He told you?"

I nodded.

"And what do you think? If it was you, would you forgive him?"

"I...no. Not exactly. But I'd feel a whole lot better about myself knowing why he did it, and knowing for sure that it wasn't about me. Wasn't my fault, somehow. Being a victim is worse than being an unfortunate bystander while other things were happening."

She was quiet, and I waited. _She has to decide on her own. I won't push. But Maker, I hope she at least talks to him._

"I...need to think. And open that letter."

I smiled sadly. "You want me to stay with you? Or I can get Leliana, or Jowan?"

"No, thanks. I think I need some time alone."

She got up and walked slowly up to her room, and I watched her go. She looked eighty years old, and tired. I didn't blame her.

I walked through the dining room on my way to my own room, nodding to the collection of people there. Anders and Jowan were looking between me and Solona's retreating back with an obvious question on each of their minds. I shrugged. _Not my place to talk about it._ They were seated with Bel, Oghren, Sten, and Faren, who appeared to have initiated a drinking contest - at least, the dwarves had, while Sten watched with a disapproving stare. I assumed Duncan was sleeping, or maybe talking to Kardol or the messenger to the Assembly, and that Zev and Aedan had disappeared into their room to do what I wanted to be doing with Alistair. I wondered where Sereda and Gorim had gotten off to until I noticed one additional large bedroom on the main floor was occupied. I shrugged, hoping they knew what they were doing.

Everyone who'd been in the Deep Roads had shaved and had their hair cut, and all looked back to their normal selves. Most of the normally clean-shaven men had kept their facial hair short-ish during our expedition – I'd brought along my scissors – but they'd gotten scruffy towards the end; Duncan had been positively bushy, and I imagined he'd cleaned up some as well.

Morrigan found me in the hallway on the way to my room. The witch had waited for me, trying to look casual but failing; I wondered if she wanted something.

"Hey, Morrigan." Tried to keep my tiredness out of my voice, not wanting her to take it personally. "How were things here, really, while I was gone?" I raised my eyebrows.

She laughed. "'Twas fine. Putting up with the Orlesian fawning over that hairless bunny-creature was a trial, and the insipid Circle mage insisted on performing every do-gooder task she could find, but compared to being trapped in the Deep Roads with broodmothers, I do not feel I should complain."

I chuckled. "That bad, hey? I hoped…perhaps you might come to appreciate each other a little while we were gone."

She tossed her head, her hair down for once and somewhat wild around her face. "I suppose the mage has some merits; she taught me a new spell. It may prove useful against the darkspawn – or amusing against Anders, should he bother either of us again." She smirked. "And Leliana did offer me this in return for helping her keep the nug safe as we left Dust Town." She fingered a beautiful golden bracelet on her wrist briefly. I knew it was the closest she'd come to admitting she liked someone.

I admired the bracelet appropriately, and then looked at her speculatively. "Did you need something from me?"

"No, no. I…" she looked uncomfortable, but then steeled herself, drawing up to her full height with a sniff. "I merely meant to tell you I am happy you are back." She paused, looking away and flushing slightly as she realised how that must sound. "Because it means we will be leaving soon, of course. I am tired of this underground city."

"Of course," I murmured, squeezing her hand once, lightly. I knew she meant she was happy to see me safe, though she would never admit to such a mundane feeling. It made me feel warm and fuzzy, though I knew she would be mortified if I made anything of it. I resisted the urge to hug her.

She took her leave awkwardly, and I watched her walk away with a bemused smile.

I slipped into my room to find Alistair pacing impatiently. He looked acutely uncomfortable, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around his waist, tucking my nose into his neck and inhaling deeply. He smelled like soap and man and that smell that was all Alistair, with not even a whiff of the miasma of the Deep Roads, and he felt like sunshine in my veins. I sniffed again appreciatively_. Just his scent is making me wet. Maker, it's been too long._ He settled his arms around me and rested his head on mine with a sigh.

"I don't like it here," he complained. "After everything…it's too dark, too close…"

"I know. Me too. I think that's why we all ended up in the library last night. Being together keeps the scariness at bay."

"I want to see the sky."

"Yeah, that would be good. At least I get the feel of sunshine on my face; you don't even get that."

He pulled back and grinned at me. "Happy to oblige, ma'am." The Starkhaven accent was back, and his grin turned into a smirk as I moaned softly.

I reached up, grabbing a handful of sandy hair, and dragged him down for a needy, open-mouthed kiss. His arms tightened around me, hands clenching in the fabric of the nighty I still wore; I wriggled against his chest, which felt hot and hard through the thin cloth.

Easing off, he gentled the kiss and softly stroked my back. I sniffed in irritation.

"Alistair?"

"Yes, love?"

"Make me forget?" _Forget the Deep Roads and Branka's horrible death gurgle and the broodmother and the fact that very soon, one way or the other, we were going to lose the only father either of us had ever known…_I tugged his hair, taking advantage of his gasp to sweep my tongue into his open mouth, enjoying the taste of him, strong and sweet and heady.

He pulled my nighty up, lifting me to wrap my legs around his waist. Pressing me against the wall, he released me with one hand and I felt him fumble with his trousers. I tugged at his tunic, pulling it up over his head while he ditched his pants.

His erection was warm and leaking against my skin. I gasped as he adjusted us and slid into my tight channel, clinging to him and sucking his lower lip with abandon. He stumbled back until he fell onto the bed, still buried deep inside me, and I was suddenly riding him, cowgirl style.

His hands cupped my breasts, kneading and tweaking; breaking the kiss, he pulled me to him and nipped at my neck. "I'm not…" he paused, groaning, as I started to ride him, hard and fast, "I'm not going to last. It's been too long…"

"Me either. Shut up and don't stop," I gasped.

He chuckled darkly, moving his hands from my breasts to my waist, then one of them dipped down further to find my hard, swollen pearl. I picked up the pace, slamming myself down again and again as he massaged it in time. I felt him shudder, knew he was close; I leaned back, pulling away from his hungry mouth, letting his length stretch and press into that delicious spot inside me. He thrust with his hips once, twice, and then on the third, pinched my clit between his fingers; I stiffened and came, writhing and undulating as he emptied himself inside me.

I collapsed down on his chest, panting, and he held me while we recovered. I rolled to one side and snuggled up against him, resting my head on his shoulder, and we held each other and talked and giggled like something out of a romance movie. Before long, he had other ideas, and his hands began to stray as he captured my lips in a soft, loving kiss.

We made love again, this time slow and soft, teasing and touching, drawing it out; when I came, with him buried inside me, pinning my hips to the bed, he gasped my name and came apart, his shallow thrusts prolonging my orgasm until I had to either stop and breathe, or pass out. We fell asleep, then, tangled together, sweaty, and sated.

When I woke, I had no idea how much time had passed, but I was hungry, so that was a good indication that it was probably at least lunchtime. I disentangled myself from Alistair, pulling my nighty on over my now-chilled body, and poked my head out our door, hoping to see someone who had stone sense and could tell me the time. No one was there, but a covered tray sat on a small table outside our door. _Mistress Leta strikes again, I assume._ I grabbed it and brought it inside.

"Oh, you brought food? Excellent."

I jumped, startled, and then giggled at Alistair's chuckle. "Not I. I'm assuming Mistress Leta. I wonder what time it is?"

"I really wish they had Chantry candles in Orzammar."

"What're Chantry candles?"

"Oh, you know, the ones with hours marked off on them. You can tell what time it is by which mark the candle's burned down to. They have a real name, but I can never remember it." He sat up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, and looking around for trousers.

I shook my head, pushing him back to sit against the headboard, still naked. I set the tray beside him and pulled off my own nighty, climbing up to straddle his legs. And then, also naked, with the evidence of his arousal growing between my thighs, I fed both of us, slowly, allowing the anticipation to build, while making small talk, and generally driving Alistair insane. By the time the last bite on the tray had been eaten, and I had meticulously wiped both of our mouths with the napkin, I was desperate. I couldn't even say what I'd eaten; it didn't matter, as his hazel eyes, pupils blown wide with desire, raked over my body. Before I could even respond, he'd lifted me off him, placing me down on the bed, and lowered his face to my core.

He brought me to one orgasm and then another with his questing tongue and dexterous fingers, but instead of sated, I was steadily becoming more and more desperate. I pulled his hair, tried to drag him up so he would take me, but he resisted. Finally, I pulled away and turned over, onto my hands and knees, rear end in the air, face on the pillow, and tried to be irresistible.

"Please, Alistair." I shuddered in anticipation and arousal, feeling my own juices coat my upper thighs.

His answering growl was feral, and he gripped my hip with one hand, lining himself up with the other, and entered me in one smooth stroke. I clenched the pillow with both hands and wailed my satisfaction as he filled me. I felt one hand on my shoulder, and he pulled me up to press my back against his muscular chest. His hips stilled, but he reached around and tweaked a nipple with his fingers, and I gasped.

"Is this what you wanted, little minx?"

I nodded and writhed in his arms, trying to grind myself against his erection. He circled my waist with his arm, holding me still, and I huffed my objection. He chuckled, his breath gusting past my ear.

"You tease me through that entire meal, make me want you, make me wait, and now you expect to be given what you want?" He flicked my nipple again for emphasis, and I twitched.

I'd have been frightened, if his tone hadn't been smug; I could hear him grinning. _Two can play at this game, buddy._

I reached up, draping my arms up behind myself, one hand caressing his neck, the other fisting in his hair, and stretched, making my breasts jut forward proudly; I felt him throb inside me at the sight. And then I pulled out the big guns, and used my internal muscles to massage his hard length rhythmically.

He groaned and his hands gripped me tighter, and then he began thrusting, finally giving me what I wanted. Losing his patience, he picked up the pace, driving into me relentlessly, and I thrust back against him as well as I was able. Releasing his grip around my waist, he stroked a thick finger over my slightly-chafed clit; I squealed and came, twitching and shuddering in his arms, and with a growl he released himself, filling me yet again.

After recovering from our exertions, we lay, sweaty and dishevelled, his head resting on my belly. I stroked his hair, much longer than I was used to – apparently Leli and the scissors hadn't caught up to him yet – and he practically purred.

"I suppose we should get up and see what's going on."

"I suppose." I sighed. "Need a bath first, though."

He climbed to his feet and offered me a hand, which I took, groaning under my breath from the sore muscles we hadn't used in a while. He quickly dressed while I hunted for some clean clothes, finding a pair of panties and a linen dress. I took the opportunity while he was distracted to down one of the little bottles of healing potion I kept just for that reason, when I suddenly realised things were too quiet. I looked up to see Alistair watching me, eyes dark, a scowl on his face.

"What's that for?"

I tried for nonchalant. "Nothing." I shrugged.

"You expect me to believe you're taking a healing potion for no reason? Last I heard they weren't addictive, and you haven't been injured in a while…"

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine." I pulled the dress over my head to avoid making eye contact.

"Don't even try it, Sierra. I hurt you." The self-recrimination in his tone was obvious, and I sighed and turned to look at him.

"No, you didn't." I held my hand up to forestall his objection. "I just get…a little chafed, I suppose. I want you, need you – I swear the taint makes me insatiable – but it leaves me a little worn out, after. That's not your fault, and from what Zevran says, it's normal and it gets better with regular, ah, performances."

"You talked about this with the _assassin_?" His tone was irritated, and I sighed. He'd stopped calling Zevran that for the most part.

"No. He just…in Denerim, without me even saying anything, he gave me a potion after. So after a few days of that, I asked. He assures me it's completely normal to be a bit stiff and sore. Especially because of your Grey Warden stamina. And I actually like the feeling, but I don't want Aedan to notice. Because reasons. So I take a small potion just to ease the stiffness a bit."

He turned away, shoulders stiff, tension radiating out every pore. I sighed, and walked up behind him to press my face to his back and wrap my arms around him. After a few minutes, he finally relaxed a little and covered my hands with his own. "Never again," he whispered.

I pulled away. "Never again?" My eyes were wide in horror.

He turned. "Not like that. I'm just never going to hurt you again."

"Alistair, I am not some delicate flower. I'm perfectly capable of telling you if you go too far, or if something hurts."

"I'm not taking the chance. I can…I can be gentler. I will be."

I scowled. "Don't bother. Because if you're going to treat me like some porcelain doll, despite my assurances that I'm fine, then I'm not going to bed with you. You're either with me all the way, like I am with you, or not at all. I thought we were past this condescending bullshit."

I grabbed my toiletries and turned to storm out the door.

"Sierra…wait." He grabbed my arm before I could leave.

I glared down at his hand, then up at his face. _He's making puppy dog eyes at me, damn him._ "Let go of me."

"Not until you listen. Just for one second."

I pulled my arm out of his grasp. "I'll give you five. Better make it good." I crossed my arms under my breasts, shoulders hunched protectively.

"Look, I'm stronger than you. I don't want to hurt you, especially by accident, but I can't help it when I know you won't tell me."

"I'll tell you when – if – it's a problem, I can promise you that."

"And by then it'll have been too late, and I'll already have hurt you."

"Okay, let's just say that it's even possible you'll do something to hurt me eventually. Which I doubt very much, by the way. Is it going to be worse than breaking my leg? How about the Joining – will it be worse than that? Worse than a smite? I can deal with a little pain, if we somehow get too crazy."

He was still scowling, still upset. I sighed.

"You think you're so much stronger than me?" He nodded, looking confused. "You think strength in your _arms_ is all that matters? Fine." I dropped my bath supplies, instead reaching for my spare armour. I stripped out of my dress and started pulling it on, piece by piece. "I'll make you a deal, then. If you soundly trounce me in a sparring match, you win and you can treat me like a porcelain doll for the rest of our lives. But if I can hold my own – not win, but make a real fight of it – then you drop this, right then and there, and I never hear about it again."

"I…if I'm trying not to hurt you, I am certainly not going to fight you, Sierra. Not for real."

"Put up or shut up, Alistair." I fixed him with a grim glare. He cowered back, and I sighed. "Fine, if it worries you, you may name a champion, coward."

"I'm not going to get someone else to try to fight you either!"

"Then I guess when you said 'never again', you really meant it."

"No, I-"

"I'm going to find us somewhere to spar. I expect you, in your armour, in ten minutes." I turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind me.

* * *

A/N:

Sorry for the slightly late posting - I ended up with food poisoning all weekend, and didn't get a chance to prep this chapter for posting on time!

Apparently butter chicken is a poos choice when your tummy feels off. FYI :)

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. A million thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande, my talented and fabulous betas.

Thank you so much for all the reviews, everyone! You guys are really really good for my motivation. That said, please send me a review, let me know what you think!

Reviews:

5 Coloured Walker: I'm not sure anyone but Qunari have canons of any sort in Thedas - no black powder except Qamek. Glad you liked what I did with Caridin!

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: I'm so glad most people like Sereda. I'd like to think she's sort of sensible, pragmatic but not ruthlessly so.

Biorr the Old: Yeah, wish fulfillment is a good motivator to write fanfic. Here's how I'd like to have seen it end with Caridin, not just uselessly tossing himself into the lava...hope your fanfiic-induced diabetes recovers ;)

MelindaOz: Foreknowledge does rock, doesn't it? It's been fun getting to decide how they could do things differently knowing all the annoying, dumb stuff that can happen :) Yeah, I've read a few fics where Duncan survived, and I always though 'oh, fabulous, now he has to have his Calling, ugh.' And fanfic or not, this is meant to be a reflection of life...and life sometimes sucks.

jamesers21: Happy or not, don't die! LOL I'm glad everyone else liked my ideas as much as I did. I don't see golem babies in our future, but as much as animate stone can be, I think they'll be happy. Ish. Especially since there's no pigeons underground.

Reploid Avenger: Thanks! Sierra watched 'How to Train your Dragon'. That Hiccup has good weapon ideas! :)

Judy (Guest): Me too! Obviously :) Thanks.

LadyDragon1316: I'm glad you like my changes to canon. As for your critique, I don't toally disagree, though like you've said, there's a lot of stuff to get through, and voicing all of it would mean probably doubling the length of every chapter...also, a lot of what I leave out is in-game dialogue. Caridin and Sereda don't know anything about Sierra at this point, they've got no reason for their dialogue to change from in game. I'm trying to only make changes to canon when I can justify them because of Sierra's presence. And I dislike repeating chunks of game dialogue whole. So I tend to skip through...also, Sierra being the only POV means sometimes she's not involved in a conversation. I think it would be pretty strange for a lot of people why a random, relatively unskilled human girl is brought into every decision or conversation, and that would be weirder than describing outcomes instead of voicing every conversation. As for Oghren, in my head, he isn't going to open up to anyone, never mind Sierra who he's embarrassed in front of...so she's left describing his actions, since he's not talking. So I suspect that if voicing every conversation is what you're hoping for, you'll remain disappointed, because a lot of this story is essentially a diary entry when you're only seeing one perspective...

Jarjaxle: Glad I made you laugh :) As for Bhelen...wait and see ;)

Ioialoha: Glad you liked! I'm actually overwhelmed by the positive response to these changes to canon ;)

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Yeah the deep roads are super creepy. Even pre-darkspawn I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been impressed...hope I portrayed adequately the darkness and creepiness ;)

Star (Guest): I'm glad you liked it! I enjoyed thinking it up, believe me :) I haven't thought too much about Kal Sharok...ugh, more dwarven politics!

limiculous: Welcome! I'm glad you can overlook the romance bits. This chapter probably wasn't your favourite...sorry ;) You're right, normal nolas wouldn't be enough to really cripple it, though all we really need them to do is force the Archdemon low enough for magic to get it...there's a plan in place, for that, that you won't see for...oh, 25 more chapters or so lol. Trebuchets would work, but they're not so portable. Same with ballistas. I don't disagree about polyamory...but it seems like most major cultures just can't get over it. Consider Andraste had a kinky sort of thing going on with the Maker and Maferath, you'd think that Thedas would be a little more open ;)

eriaaile: And thank you! I'm glad you're still having fun :)

thinkdragonage: Zev, plus foreknowledge, would be a pretty formidable opponent, don't you think? :) I so enjoyed thinking up my plans for Caridin...glad everyone else did too :)

InsidiousAgent: Yeah, Sereda's pretty convincing :) The Assembly is going to be fun! I think Sereda's probably progressive enough to be able to think past her immediate goals, but realistic enough to know she's going to have to take it slowly if she wants any changes to be meaningful, and stick. I suspect it'll take more than one generation to bring the dwarves to anything resembling equality or modern ideas...Ha, people from Thedas exposed to our culture is a story I've been thinking about when I'm done with this one, I admit...though I suppose the magic wouldn't necessarily come over. But yeah, if Thedas mages could master magic that mimicked other games etc...they'd be scary :) As for bola launchers, they exist, on a small scale. The ones I've seen look like crossbows mounted side by side, vertically. I did some research before I included them :) The same launcher could be used with nets as well, I imagine...

Ajp25: Yeah, well, suicide is pretty much always selfish, I have to say, and Caridin's was no exception. Branka had to pay for what she had done; if she'd been allowed to return to Orzammar, someone would have seen her as a role model. Or she'd have been used as a political pawn...so it's sad, sort of, but necessary, I'd say, regardless of whether she could wake up from her insanity (which I doubt). Yeah, so so many reasons to be happy to be out of the deep roads!


	13. Chapter 87: Right to Assemble

This is the original version of this story with descriptive sex scenes. If you do not wish to read such material, please see "There and Back Again" under my profile.

* * *

Chapter Eighty-Seven: *Right to Assemble

I went down to the dining hall, finding Solona, Leli, Duncan, and Zevran sitting around chatting. They looked up in surprise as I came through the doorway, armoured and armed.

"Duncan, is there somewhere here to spar?"

He stood, walking up to me, a puzzled look on his face. "There's no need to train today, Sierra. We just got back-"

"It's not for training. I need to prove a point. Actually, I'd like to have everyone there for this, if I could. So where? Is there a training yard somewhere?"

"We usually use the space reserved for the Royal Guard, but I don't relish the idea of going there. I think there's a practice ring at the Proving Grounds, and since there's no Proving today, we might be able to use that."

"Great. Can you all spread the word? I'm taking any challengers in single combat." I scowled at Duncan, who took a step back in surprise. "But Alistair is first."

I headed to the Proving Grounds and managed to find someone to give me permission and access to the practice ring. And then I took a few minutes to warm up, stretching and walking around, getting used to the space. It was in the bowels of the island the Provings sat upon, and was a dusty, echo-filled chamber with a roughly staked circle.

I was nervous; I definitely was not the best fighter in the group. I was likely the worst, with the possible exception of Jowan and Anders, whose magic I could neutralise. But I needed this. I didn't need to win, but I needed to gain some respect, and stop the group from treating me like a very clever, but helpless child. I concentrated on my breathing, trying to keep the panic at bay.

Aedan was the first to find me there when he arrived, with Zevran in tow.

"What's this about, Sierra?"

I noticed neither man was in armour, and couldn't decide between being relieved or offended. "Just making a point that needs to be made." I shrugged off further questions until everyone else arrived. They trickled in, in ones and twos, a few in armour, most not. Sereda and Gorim wore armour and full helmets, but I knew they had to whether they planned to challenge me or not, just so they could arrive unnoticed.

Finally everyone seemed ready. Alistair was the last to arrive, expression adorably confused, shoulders drooping, but armour, weapon and shield ready. I cleared my throat.

"I've decided I am finally sick of being treated like a child, or worse, some fragile, breakable toy. Today is all about breaking everyone's illusions about that. To that end, I will take on any challenger who wishes to spar with me. Alistair has won the _privilege_ of going first."

I stepped into the ring, walking up to Anders, who, we had discovered, knew a spell to blunt weapons. He blunted my daggers, and I turned, getting into a defensive posture. I risked a glance at Aedan to see his jaw clenched, muscles twitching; Zevran just looked amused. And then I noticed Oghren taking bets, and I laughed.

Alistair allowed his sword to be blunted, then reluctantly turned to face me. He held his sword up in a salute, and I grinned, rushing him before he could drop his arm. I slashed the underside of his upper arm, spinning to end up behind him, jabbing him once in the kidneys as well. He grunted, in pain and shock, I assumed, and then turned, readying his shield.

I'd had problems with shields since I'd started my training with Duncan, but I'd learned, and learned well. Shields were something the darkspawn made good use of. I feinted high, then tucked low and rolled, trying to take Alistair's feet out from under him. He blocked, but it was a close thing, and I allowed myself to huff a brief laugh. _Maybe I can do this_. I backed off, waiting for him to make a move.

He made a weak swing at me, which I easily deflected with my crossed daggers, then jabbed at his armpit with my off-hand. He was wearing his heavy dragonbone, and just couldn't keep up with my speed in light leather. I spun away again. The next time he came after me, I leaped out of the way and clipped him in the jaw with the back of my hand, sending him reeling. I realised, to my dismay, that he was going easy on me.

"Fight me, damn you."

"I'm trying," he whined.

"No, you're not. You're a better fighter than this." I stopped, straightening up, walking to the centre of the ring slowly. I dropped my daggers at my feet and turned my back on him, looking at him over my shoulder. "Maybe you can hit me now, Princess?" I echoed his words from the last time we'd sparred while angry, and I saw his face redden as everyone around snickered.

And then he was moving, graceful and strong, and made to strike at my unprotected back. Aedan looked furious and scared; I winked at him as I dived out of the way of Alistair's swing, grabbing my daggers as I went.

The fight was far more serious after that; we chased each other around the little arena for a half hour. He managed to nail me with a couple of solid shield bashes, which I rolled out of, winded; I made him drop his sword twice with strikes to his wrist and arm. He finally knocked me over and put his sword to my neck.

"Yield," he panted.

I grinned. "Never." I lashed out with my feet, wrapping my legs around his knees and knocking him down, batting his sword away at the same time with my dagger. He fell and landed, half on me, half off, and I shouted with pain as I felt a rib crack. He groaned and rolled off me, collapsing onto his back beside me.

"Tie?" I offered, breathless with pain.

"Deal."

"And…?"

He sighed. "Fine. I'll stop treating you like you're fragile."

"And you're going to stop worrying about hurting me?"

"No, probably not. But I'll shut up about it unless you tell me otherwise."

"That will do. Hey, Alistair?"

"Yes, beautiful?"

"Could you get Anders for me? I think I broke a rib."

Choking on a laugh that bordered on hysteria, Alistair climbed to his feet and gestured; I felt healing magic roll over me as I laid there, and my chest slowly stopped aching. When I smiled, Alistair offered me his hand, pulling me to my feet and into a bear hug.

"I love you, Sierra."

"I know." I kissed his nose. "Now let's see who else wants to kick my ass."

He laughed.

The rest of the afternoon was actually sort of fun; I sparred with Leli, Duncan, Bel, and even Sten. I didn't win any of the fights, but I made it at least a reasonable challenge, and I didn't make a fool out of myself. When there were no more takers, a few of the group went up against each other in the ring, and the betting continued. By the end, everyone was laughing and chatting, heading back to the estate in the Diamond Quarter in good spirits.

"Hey, Oghren?"

"Yeah, Toots?"

I grimaced, but ignored the irritating nickname. _At least he isn't angry anymore. _ "Who won the bet? The first one, on me and Alistair?"

Zevran spoke up from behind me. "I did, bella donna. Oghren bet that Alistair wouldn't fight at all; everyone else bet against you."

"But you wagered on me?"

"I've told you, cara mia – you scare me far more than any Crow. I know, or at least suspect, what you are capable of, when you put your mind to it." He winked and jogged ahead to catch up to Aedan.

When we arrived at the estate, Alistair pulled me by the hand to our room, helped me out of my armour, handed me a clean dress – not one I'd seen before, and I wondered whether Leliana or Mistress Leta had been shopping – grabbed my toiletries, and dragged me to one of the bathing chambers. He picked me up and lowered me into the bath, then knelt beside the tub to gently wash me. It was sensual, not sexual, and I purred under his tender ministrations. When he washed my hair, I was so relaxed, if it hadn't been for Alistair holding my head, I'd have drowned.

Finally Alistair climbed in, and I got to return the favour. His skin was smooth and slick under my hands, and I probably washed him more than necessary, but he didn't complain. His face was flushed, though, and his engorging length told me he'd noticed.

When I was done playing, he pulled me to sit between his legs, my back against his chest, and he just held me.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to condescend."

"I know. It's not just you, either. My brother needs to seriously take a breath sometimes. And I know I'm not some warrior princess – I have no illusions of becoming a wandering hero or something. But I can pull my weight, at least, and I need to be allowed to do it. I love you, and I love that you care about me, about hurting me, but I also need to live my life without someone constantly second-guessing me."

"It matters that much to you? That I don't hold back when we're…" he blushed, "together?"

"Not only then, but yes. I love how I feel when we're together. I love the feeling of total openness, of being more than just me, but as part of _us_. I don't want to lose that because you're holding back. I even love the stiffness after. And just because my skin has trouble keeping up with my stamina doesn't mean we have to change – I just have to take care of it after."

He scoffed. "How can you love the stiffness?"

"Haven't you ever been a little sore or chafed after sex? Every time I move the wrong way, I get a vivid mental image of exactly what it was we did that gave me that ache. I feel deliciously naughty all day."

He laughed, but his erection, which had been flagging, indicated his arousal at the thought. "I am going to make you feel deliciously naughty right now, if you'll let me."

"Like I'd ever say no to that?"

He picked me up, turning me to face him, and as I straddled his legs, I sank down on his length, both of us groaning at the contact. I rode him to completion, and he didn't seem to be holding back; I flopped against his chest after in the cooling water, sated and exhausted.

After washing up again and getting dressed, we had supper as one big group; sixteen people, a mabari, and a handful of golems take up a lot of space. We agreed to go to the Assembly in the morning, all fully armed and armoured, with full helms so Sereda and Gorim could remain incognito. Caridin was going to ask both candidates to come down to the floor, where it was Zevran's job to get close to Bhelen, preventing him from getting into a fight with a blade to the neck and paralysis poison, if necessary. Everyone else would defend against Bhelen's toadies who may or may not attack even after the Prince had been taken out of the fight.

"I want him alive, Zevran. Please, don't kill him unless absolutely necessary."

"It's not my usual sort of assignment," he drawled in his thick Antivan accent, "but I'm sure I'll manage to contain myself somehow."

We all broke out laughing. Sereda blushed, muttering apologies.

That night Alistair and I slept, tangled together and peaceful, still contentedly stiff from our earlier exertions.

Mistress Leta had apparently had all of our armour cleaned and oiled, and our weapons sharpened, while we slept. _That woman is amazing!_ I wondered if she ever slept. Even Oghren, short fluffy beard finally starting to grow out again, looked clean, well-dressed, and impressive. He was even sober, for a change. We formed up as Caridin's honour guard, following the enormous golem through the streets of the Diamond Quarter to the Assembly Hall. There were plenty of people out and about – rumours of the Paragon's existence had spread like wildfire, as we'd intended – and many of them pointed in shock as the armoured golem stomped along. A ripple of amazement went through the crowd, followed by cheering for their long-lost Paragon returned home at last.

We waited in the foyer as the Deshyrs were seated in the hall; several of them had tried to sidle up to Caridin, or even some of the rest of us, probing not-so-subtly to try to pry out who the golem would choose. We all just pointedly ignored them, to their obvious disappointment. Finally everyone was seated, and Steward Bandelore announced us.

Caridin strode forward, the rest of us on his heels, and the Deshyrs all rose and bowed to the Paragon as he descended the steps to the central dais where invited guests were allowed to speak.

When everyone settled again, Caridin raised one hand. "I am Caridin, a Paragon of Orzammar. I have been alone in the Deep Roads since the Anvil of the Void was used to force me to become like this." He gestured at his armoured, stony arm. "The Paragon Branka is dead, killed in the Deep Roads trying to find me. These Grey Wardens completed her task. The Anvil has been destroyed, at my request; never again shall it be used to enslave dwarven souls."

A murmur rose in the chamber, everyone reacting with shock and surprise at the news. Caridin paused to allow it to settle again.

Steward Bandelore stepped forward, bowing low to Caridin. "Does anyone here deny that this is, indeed, the Paragon Caridin?"

No one spoke. Bandelore bowed again and stepped back. "Please continue, Paragon. You know what the Assembly is waiting to hear."

"You have proven yourselves incapable of ruling over Orzammar. This should never have been allowed to continue. I will break the impasse so Orzammar may finally move forward. Prince Bhelen, Lord Harrowmont, please step down." He gestured to a spot in front of him on the dais.

Surprised, the two men rose uncertainly while everyone else fidgeted impatiently. Harrowmont stepped down first, followed by a rather sulky looking Bhelen. Harrowmont bowed deeply to Caridin when he arrived on the dais; Bhelen's bow was perfunctory and somehow mocking.

Caridin turned to Shale, who carried a small box; at his nod, she handed the box to Bandelore, who opened it.

"I have forged a crown for the next leader of Orzammar." He reached out and lifted a golden hoop from the box where it sat. It was sparkling with gems, a slender golden circlet with an intricate design at the front; it looked like something a jeweler would have made, not a smith. It was beautiful, catching the light of the torches within the Assembly chamber and refracting them out to form tiny rainbows on the walls.

It looked…delicate. For one moment, my rare, well-hidden girly instincts kicked in – I wanted to try it on. Badly. I shook my head and focused on Bhelen and Harrowmont. Zev had wormed his way behind Bhelen, who was staring at the crown like it was poisonous. Harrowmont had a sardonic smile on his face; he made eye contact with Duncan, and the two exchanged barely perceptible nods. Caridin continued to hold the circlet aloft, silent.

Finally Bhelen broke the silence. "But who will wear it?"

That was our cue. As one, we all reached up and removed our helmets. Sereda, standing directly behind Caridin, handed hers to Gorim, and then stepped around the golem, shaking out her long red hair. Several gasps could be heard from nearby Deshyrs.

"You didn't think it would be you, did you, dearest brother?" she whispered, quietly enough that only those of us on the dais could hear. She stepped between the two contenders for the throne and turned to face Caridin.

"I have revoked the exile of Sereda Aeducan from Orzammar, on my authority as a Paragon."

Bhelen sputtered, face turning an alarming scarlet colour. "You can't do that!"

An old, white-haired, almost skinny dwarf in lavish noble clothing stepped out of a small alcove near Bandelore and cleared his throat. "The Memories confirm that a Paragon may indeed revoke political exile, Prince Bhelen. From the time of Paragon Lantena-"

"Thank you, Shaper Czibor," interrupted Bandelore, with a roll of the eyes that indicated he'd had to interrupt just such a diatribe many times before. I had forgotten that the Shaper attended the Assembly as well. "Does anyone have legitimate grounds on which to appeal the revocation of Sereda Aeducan's exile?"

No one spoke, yet again.

The Shaper glared at Bandelore, and then stepped down to the dais as well, taking the crown from Caridin and looking up at the golem expectantly.

"Then I, Paragon Caridin, to whom the task of choosing a King for Orzammar has fallen, instead choose a Queen. All hail Queen Sereda Aeducan!"

Harrowmont immediately dropped to his knees, as did many of the assembled Deshyrs. Bhelen, however, shouted out, "No! This will not be allowed to stand." He drew a sword, but Zevran stepped up behind him and held a dagger to his throat from behind.

"Call off your associates, brother dearest, or I'll have my friend there kill you. Your choice."

Dwarves all around the gallery had drawn weapons, an impressive display of maces, swords, and axes; but there were nineteen of us, including two golems and a mabari, and several of the other Deshyrs were armed as well. All of them hesitated, weighing the odds, and looked to Bhelen for a response.

He tried to move, and Zevran gripped him tighter, the tip of his dagger just barely digging in. "This dagger is coated with a powerful paralyzing agent, Your Highness," Zev said quietly, sneering on the title, "so if you move any further, I will stop you. All it will take is one little cut. Already you feel weaker from just a puncture, no?"

Bhelen looked around frantically, seeming to realise that no one would come to his rescue; his sword dropped to the stone with a clang, and everyone else who'd drawn weapons followed suit.

Bandelore called for guards, and those who had drawn weapons were bound and taken away; Bhelen remained on the dais, his hands bound behind him. Harrowmont was then asked if he would step down as a contender for the throne, and he did so with grace.

Sereda was crowned, and a round of cheering went up in the Chamber. When everyone had settled, Sereda took her place on the throne, leaving Bhelen still standing. Bandelore banged his staff to get everyone's attention.

"Lords of the Assembly, my friends," she smiled and nodded to us, "we have much work to do. If everyone would find seats, we can continue. Unless you have other places you need to be," she continued, clearly aimed at us.

We quickly deliberated. Aedan, Duncan, Faren and I wanted to stay for the discussion, Leliana appeared fascinated by it all, and Alistair and Zev had no intention of leaving me or Aedan alone. Gorim wasn't going to leave Sereda there either. Caridin was given an honoured place at Sereda's side, and Shale stood with him. Everyone else was going to be bored; Duncan suggested they go shopping for new packs, clothes, runes, and other supplies, since so much of our stuff had been destroyed in the Deep Roads. They left, and the eight of us remaining found seats. Kardol, who'd been standing at the back unobtrusively, joined us.

"First, the matter of Prince Bhelen. I would like to declare a vote that he be exiled to the Deep Roads, and spend the rest of his life fighting darkspawn until his death. Unless someone would like to speak on his behalf?"

He paled, looking around for someone to speak; no one did for an agonising moment. Sereda exchanged a barely perceptible nod with Kardol, who cleared his throat and fidgeted, drawing attention to himself but not saying anything. Bhelen looked at him, looked back at Sereda, and slumped.

"I would agree to dedicate myself to the Legion of the Dead, to commit to fighting the darkspawn, in an attempt to regain my honour and spare my child from shame by association."

Kardol stood and bowed. "I accept, on behalf of the Legion of the Dead. We will hold your funeral tomorrow, and you will no longer be Prince Bhelen Aeducan, but just Bhelen."

Sereda gestured to the guard. "Take him to the dungeon for the night. The Legion can collect him in the morning."

Kardol inclined his head in acceptance. Murmurs arose at the unusual arrangement; I thought it was only fitting, given how he'd had Sereda jailed before her exile.

Bhelen was hustled out of the Chamber by the guard. He looked back once, almost pleadingly, at Sereda, who finally nodded her head. The tension in his shoulders released, and he followed the guard willingly out.

"Next to the matter of the succession. To avoid future recurrences of the contention we've just experienced, I propose that the succession be recorded in the Memories, and that it need be changed in front of witnesses including the Shaper, the Assembly Steward, and at least three members of this Assembly."

They voted, and it passed unanimously.

"As such, I would like to declare my succession now, with all of you as witnesses."

Bandelore had parchment, a quill and ink, and a small table brought out for the Shaper.

"I declare the unborn child of my brother Bhelen as my heir, whether the child is male or female, until such a time as I have heirs of my own." Faren grinned broadly, and Sereda winked at him before continuing. "I propose a guardianship and regency for the child in the case of my death prior to his eighteenth year comprised of three members: Warden Faren Brosca, the child's uncle, Lord Pyrral Harrowmont, and Steward Bandelore. I also propose his mother, Rica Brosca, be adopted into House Aeducan where she may raise the child with my help."

"You propose we raise the female child of a casteless woman to the nobility? On what precedent?" shouted out one Deshyr.

"My Lords, change must come to Orzammar; whether we die out or progress is entirely up to us. Over the next few weeks and months, I will be bringing many proposals to this Assembly to change the culture by which we have allowed ourselves to decline. I suggest you think very carefully about what it will mean should you deny the changes. Our birth rates are dropping; too many of our warriors die in Provings, never mind those that fall to the darkspawn. Our merchant and smith castes are stifled by lack of trade. We are slowly going extinct. If we do not change, we will die.

"Allowing the child of a casted dwarf, regardless of gender, to assume the caste of either parent is the smallest of those changes that will need to be made. So yes, I propose to allow my niece, if the child is female, to follow me in succession, and her mother to be adopted to raise her properly."

Bandelore banged his staff again to restore order, as people began talking amongst themselves, or shouting out incomprehensible responses. When quiet was restored, Bandelore called for a vote on allowing Sereda's future niece (even though I knew it would be a boy) to be considered an Aeducan.

The vote passed, almost two to one for, but there was a definite hardcore group of dwarves who were against. I was surprised it passed by such a large margin, given how tradition-bound the dwarves always seemed, but Faren pointed out something I'd not considered – a good number of the nobles had children with casteless women, and their daughters were all living in Dust Town with their mothers, if there had been no male children. This would set a precedent for them to be allowed to acknowledge their daughters and mistresses.

The most surprising thing, for me, was that Harrowmont voted in favour. His expression looked like he was sucking on a lemon, but it seemed he took his vow to support Sereda if we were able to find her seriously. His cronies looked as surprised as I, but followed his lead; I giggled, imagining that would be an interesting conversation later.

Sereda's succession wishes were recorded in the Memories, and the discussion turned to the Blight. Sereda confirmed Orzammar's commitment to aid against the Blight; she secured Kardol's agreement to send the vast majority of the Legion of the Dead forces, as well as agreeing to send most of the Warrior Caste. She made a motion to have any casteless who wished it to be tested for combat ability, and those who were able to fight would be outfitted and sent as a unit of their own; any who served (or the families of those who died on the surface) would be promoted to a new class Sereda proposed, essentially a lower level or subsidiary of the Warrior Caste. The motion passed easily; I guessed that the nobility were only too happy to get rid of some casteless to die on the surface, and hadn't considered what would happen to all of those people once the Blight was over.

She also easily obtained the approval necessary to commission Caridin to find golems in the Deep Roads and reactivate them, as well as research ways to remove the need for control rods. The dwarves had seemed disappointed at the loss of the Anvil of the Void – and why wouldn't they be? They hadn't seen the consequences – but that disappointment was wiped out at the prospect of finding a golem army some other way.

Shortly thereafter the Assembly was called to a close. I didn't think the Deshyrs could have stood any more revolutionary ideas out of Sereda, so it was probably a good thing. Sereda invited us to a gathering of the nobility at the Palace that evening, and we gratefully accepted.

* * *

A/N:

As always I don't own Dragon Age. A million thanks to my fabulous betas Kira Tamarion and Melysande.

Send me a note and let me know what you think! Also, I'm trying to think of a good brothel name. If anyone has a good suggestion, please PM me - it would be a higher-end brothel, so no gross names, but one that is subtly suggestive would be good! Something like 'the Hidden Pearl', for example, but preferably not something from game :)

Reviews:

Biorr the Old: I shall try to keep interposing the darkness between the diabetes, then :) Thanks for the review!

Ioialoha: Yeah, it's nice to be chivalrous, and things, but there's nothing more annoying than being treated like a porcelain doll. There's a line between intense and abuse, and I will be sure to let whoever know if they even get close! Boys...sigh.

eriaaile: I'm not claustrophobic, but I imagine the Deep Roads would make anyone feel that way a bit...glad that part seemed realistic :)

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: Yeah Sierra was missing the Alistair action too ;) Too bad he's occasionally a dumb-ass...

AgapeErosPhilia: You know, that's a good reminder I should publish a brief synopsis at some point, being it's been almost two years since I started writing this...We will see if I have time for next update. But please feel free to comment any time, even if you're confused - I don't mind clarifying things :)

thinkdragonage: I love Morrigan and Leli. Not as a couple, or anything, but if they could get over their initial catty reactions, I think they'd get along. And you know, gold jewelry goes a long way with a cranky witch...She doesn't trounce him - that seemed unrealistic - but she didn't totally fail either. Good compromise? :)

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Boys are ridiculous. I've had almost this exact conversation with my husband - without the sparring, because I'm a clumsy putz, but you know what I mean :)

Star (Guest): Sierra striking the killing blow would be potentially problematic, for sure, regardless of the dark ritual. No spoilers! ;)

5 Coloured Walker: The issue with ballistae are they're not exactly portable. They're huge. Good for castle defense etc, no good for a more mobile battle, which they're hoping this will be. Same with trebuchets and catapults. That's why the bola launchers...they do actually exist, on a small scale, so the theory is there at least. Yeah we definitely can't have death by exsanguination. That would be bad.

Buggy300: I've no idea if your magic theory is correct, but it is interesting! I didn't see anything to confirm or deny in game or on the wiki. I think we'll just avoid escalating the levels of violence in Thedas so we don't need to find out ;)

Dforce76: I'm jealous. Scotland! I had vacation out to the west coast...nice, but it's not Scotland :) For me nugs fall into the 'so ugly they're cute' category. Watching a grown, somewhat elegant woman swoon over any pet is always amusing, though, so yeah, fun :)

Enchantm3nt: I think my Solona's the type who's easy to guilt into doing things...as Anders well knows. She knows it, though, so he can't totally get away with it...glad you think my characters are adorable ;)

Jarjaxle: In my head, the upstanding citizens or Orzammar like to pretend the Legion doesn't exist - thus why their noble house wasn't remembered. So no heroic homecoming, especially when no one had given them orders to return home. Hope Sereda's coronation and Caridin's big reveal was worth the wait!

InsidiousAgent: Alistair can be incredibly dumb, yes. And Morrigan would so turn you into a toad, you know ;) I think you might need to change your type to nice, sweet girls. Leliana's available! ;) You're right though. She's a softy, when you get underneath that prickly exterior. As long as you don't try for any PDA, at least :)

ShellyGamerGal: We've done all the major quests, so it's Redcliffe and then Landsmeet. It will take a while, though :) Hope you enjoy the journey!

Flower248: And thanks for reviewing! I enjoy every review ;)

Ajp25: Overreact? Sierra? Alistair? Never ;) The problem is, he can't be the one to tell the difference between hurt and HURT. Some hurts are good...but yeah, she gets a little over-excited. As you can see, they worked it out ;)


	14. Chapter 88: Unexpected

This is the unedited, explicit version of this chapter. If you don't like naughty bits, check out the chapter in There and Back Again under my profile.

Also, I realised that the first explicit chapter posted here was posted wrong - it's been fixed, so if you want to read about Alistair and Sierra's first night together, take a look!

* * *

Chapter Eighty-Eight: *Unexpected

We went back to the estate with just enough time for all us girls to get ready to go out. Gorim came with us, to my surprise; I assumed he would stay with Sereda. Leliana, Solona, and Morrigan had been shopping while the rest of us had been in the Deep Roads, and each had a beautiful silk dress of some sort or another to wear; I had my burgundy and gold one from Denerim that I'd never worn.

The guys all went and bought dressy clothes while the girls got ready. We all congregated in my room, as it was the largest. It took both Leli and Solona to get me in my gown, but I had to admit it was worth it. Once on, with the laces done up and corset in place, it looked amazing. I spun, admiring myself in the full length mirror Mistress Leta procured from somewhere. I had cleavage, a narrow waist, flaring hips…the sleeves emphasized my muscular arms (_muscles! Who'd have thought the fat business consultant would ever have muscles?_) and left my pale shoulders bare.

Solona's dress was elegant, a green silk that looked lovely with her blonde hair and milky, freckled skin; Morrigan's was tight-fitting and black, showing a lot of cleavage, but less than her usual robes. Leliana's was a lovely royal blue, in a similar style to mine. Both the bard and I had significantly less cleavage than either Solona or Morrigan, so rather than flaunting it, we were faking it. But it worked, and there couldn't have been a more attractive group of women for miles.

Leli then spent forever messing with my long, curly brown hair. She piled it on top of my head in a complicated knot, with tendrils and curls escaping to frame my face. Sitting still for long enough was driving me crazy, but again, worth it in the end. She then artfully applied some makeup – kohl around my eyes, some rouge overtop of some sort of foundation, and a light powder to hide the sheen. The other girls did their own hair and makeup, and looked beautiful. I wondered what Anders would think of the pale, ethereal Solona – I was sure they'd never dressed up like that in the tower.

Finally ready, we filed out of the room and headed to the Dining Room. All the men were there waiting, as well as Caridin and Shale who had elected to stay in the Estate while they planned their foray back into the Deep Roads. I followed Leli through the doorway, and she stepped aside, revealing me to the room. Aedan smiled broadly, looking proud, and winked at me; Zev whistled, making me blush. Alistair appeared thunderstruck; he stood up, mouth agape and speechless as he stared at me.

He looked good; in a black doublet with burgundy and gold piping to match my dress over dark trousers, his muscles bulged against the fabric, and his hazel eyes shone. He'd had his hair cut, and had shaved; I noticed vaguely that all the men had, but really only had eyes for Alistair. I walked up to him, and he instinctively reached out for my hand; I laced my fingers with his and just waited for the shock to wear off. I was blushing at the attention, and could feel everyone's eyes on us, waiting to see what Alistair would do.

He tried to speak a couple of times, but eventually just leaned forward, tilted my chin up with his free hand, and kissed me. The kiss deepened as he pulled me closer, his hand slipping behind my neck to hold me in place while his tongue swept through my mouth, leaving me breathless. When he released me, I heard the cheering and catcalls I'd blocked out during the kiss, and blushed again.

Leliana tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to look at her; she examined my hair briefly, and then my face, especially my kiss-swollen lips. "I knew you didn't need lip colour."

I laughed nervously, while Alistair cleared his throat, blushing awkwardly. Finally he offered me his arm, and I took it gladly. When I turned, Anders was staring at Solona with an expression twisted with both disbelief and torment, while she pointedly ignored him. My heart ached for them both.

Everyone finally ready, we set off to the Royal Palace. "You look amazing," Alistair whispered, and I blushed again.

"You clean up pretty good yourself. Makes me want to skip the party altogether."

He looked down at me, eyes darkening with desire. "I will if you will."

"I'm pretty sure Sereda would kill us."

He huffed in annoyance, and I giggled.

We arrived at the Palace and were announced; Duncan entered first, and the rest of us trailed in after. The Palace was somewhat like the rest of Orzammar – stone walls, stone floor, stone ceiling – but was considerably more ornate than the rest of the city. There were elegant tapestries decorating the walls, some depicting various scenes from dwarven history, others just beautiful abstract patterns. The floor was covered in places with mosaic tile, and the ceiling had elaborate designs in what looked like gold filigree.

Sereda greeted us as we entered, wearing a beautiful gold and white gown and her crown; she looked lovely, and serene. Getting things sorted out and back into the Palace obviously agreed with her. She took Duncan's arm and dragged him around to meet everyone, while the rest of us spread out into the crowd.

There were a lot of nobles present, several of which I recognised from the Assembly, and some who I didn't; many of them greeted us warmly, but a noticeable minority sniffed and turned away, rudely ignoring us. Almost all of them treated Faren as if he didn't exist; I was offended, but he seemed to find it amusing. Gorim muttered names to Aedan – I tuned them out, knowing I'd never remember later anyway. Kardol was there – Sereda had told the Shaperate about the temple in Bownammar, and they would apparently reinstate the Legion as a noble house.

Some of the dwarven men kept shooting salacious looks at Morrigan, Leli, and Solona; those that looked too hard at me suffered Alistair's glare, and soon ceased. Leli used it, making rounds, laughing and flirting, every bit the bard; Morrigan returned every gaze with a frosty glare, while Solona just ignored it and stood aloof and alone.

Wine was being served on trays by servants dressed in uniform; I helped myself to a glass. It wasn't as good as the Antivan wine Zevran found for me in Denerim, but it was acceptable. Alistair grabbed himself a mug of ale from a bartender standing near a keg in one corner. It was nice – weird, but nice – to be able to just relax and enjoy ourselves for a night. There was a formal dinner for us and a few of Sereda's most noticeable supporters; she'd obviously warned the kitchens about Grey Warden appetites, and there was enough even for my ravenous group of friends. Despite being hungry, I was only able to eat a little before my dress felt too uncomfortably tight to continue.

Faren introduced us to a very pregnant Rica, who wore a simple silk dress and tried to stay hidden for the most part. She appeared flustered and nervous, not used to noble company, and returned to her chambers after only a few minutes. Faren escorted her, taking the opportunity to catch up.

After dinner there was a dance and more schmoozing. Alistair and I twirled inexpertly around the dance floor, laughing and giggling to ourselves, and then watched as the others took turns dancing with Solona and Leli. Sereda claimed Gorim for one dance, and it was obvious that every dwarven eye was on them the entire time. She looked blissful in his embrace; he just looked uncomfortable. The gossip around the room certainly wasn't very supportive, though there were a vocal few who didn't think it was anyone's business who the Queen danced with – or slept with, for that matter.

After a while, the group of us found ourselves mostly alone in a side chamber where we could relax and chat, away from the music and judging eyes. There were a few chairs, claimed by Duncan and the other girls. Alistair stood with his back against the wall, his arms around my waist as I leaned back against his chest. Leli was the last to join us, trying to detach herself from a visibly drunk dwarf who was a little too handsy. Once she arrived, and our group was alone in the room, Alistair walked us over to the middle of the room before clearing his throat. Everyone stopped chatting to look at him expectantly.

"I know that you all know how I feel about Sierra," he began, putting his hand up to stop anyone from commenting, "and no, Oghren, I am not going to discuss what I do with her legs, so just drop it now," I choked, wondering when they'd had _that_ discussion, "and I tell Sierra all the time how much I love her. However, I think it's maybe time that everyone knows, and I want to make it official before I mess it all up again."

Everyone chuckled, and he blushed.

He took my hands, and knelt in front of me, leaving me suddenly breathless, unable to move or speak, completely stunned. "Sierra, you are the best thing that has or will ever happen to me. Even with all the death, and fighting, and tragedy, you found me, and made me into a better person. You forgave me my mistakes, when I clearly didn't deserve it. I can't imagine my life without you, and I don't want to have to imagine that, not ever. So I was…I mean, I'm sort of hoping…"

He took a deep breath and let go of one of my hands, reaching into a hidden pocket in his doublet. When he brought it back out, he held a gold ring, with a small diamond solitaire in the centre of a setting that looked like a rose. "Sierra, will you marry me?"

I stood there for another moment, too shocked to respond. I had truly never expected to get married; growing up, all I saw were broken homes with broken children, and those who were still together were miserable. I'd never even wanted that, love, marriage, babies, the whole bit – not until I met Alistair. Since we'd gotten together, I'd allowed myself to feel hopeful for the future, but never really stopped to think about what that future would look like. Marriage? Where would we live? Would we have _babies_? Looking at him, gorgeous face upturned, serious expression turning nervous, biting his lip anxiously, I realised that none of that mattered. Where he was, was home, and I would gladly do anything just to have him be mine forever.

With a sob, I threw myself into his arms. He scooped me up, getting up from the floor in one smooth move; I had my arms around his neck, clinging like I'd never let go.

"I assume the lady agrees, yes?" Zevran commented drily, and everyone chuckled.

I continued to cling to Alistair's neck, but loosened my grip enough to come face-to-face. We pressed our foreheads together as tears streamed down my face; I mentally cursed the kohl-liner Leliana had applied around my eyes, as I was sure it was probably running down my face. "Yes." I kissed him, feeling his arms tighten around me briefly. "Yes, yes, yes." I punctuated each acceptance with a kiss. My tears stopped flowing, and he slowly lowered my feet to the floor; I still clung to him, face pressed into his chest, breathing in his scent – the scent of safety, of love, of home. Finally he took my hand, sliding the ring onto the appropriate finger on my left hand. It was a perfect fit, and looked absolutely gorgeous.

"I wanted to get a bigger diamond, but Leli talked me out of it," he whispered.

"It's perfect. Bigger would have been very impractical, not to mention gaudy. I should have guessed Leli was involved." I grinned, and Alistair returned my giddy smile. "I love you. I can't believe you pulled this off without me knowing!"

"It was meant to be a surprise." He kissed me gently. "I love you, my future wife. Wow, that sounds sort of…Wife. Wiiife. Yeah, that's going to take some getting used to."

I giggled and pulled him in for another kiss. When I finally looked up, everyone was smiling at us; Duncan's and Aedan's eyes were suspiciously bright, and Leliana and Solona had each shed a couple of tears. Anders' jaw was clenched, looking jealous and forlorn; I couldn't bring myself to be sorry for him at that moment.

Aedan pulled me away from Alistair – _my betrothed, and how weird is that_ – to grab me in a bear hug. He then turned to Alistair, holding out his hand; the men grasped forearms. Aedan pulled him closer in an awkward man-hug, and I heard him whisper, "You hurt her and I'll end you."

Alistair replied, "I know. And I'll hold you to that."

I rolled my eyes and punched both of their shoulders in exasperation. "I'm standing right here, you know!"

Aedan grinned at me and stuck out his tongue; the three of us broke up laughing.

We were both hugged by the rest of the group – well, except Sten, of course, who just nodded his head gravely, and Morrigan, who wouldn't initiate a hug, especially with Alistair, for anything. And Oghren, who was in a drunken sleep under the table, again.

When Anders hugged me, he apologised for his envy; I didn't hold it against him. I could understand. Poor Bel blushed so hard and stuttered so badly when he tried to congratulate us that I ended up rescuing him with a hug.

Sereda joined us briefly, wishing us well; she spent a couple of minutes talking quietly in the corner with Gorim. I couldn't hear what was said, but it wasn't good. He just kept shaking his head, and she got more and more agitated until she finally broke out in tears. He reached up and stroked her cheek gently, wiping away the tears, and then finally turned and walked away, hunched over like he had gained fifty years in ten minutes.

My happy night, my happy ending, wasn't going to be happy for everyone, it seemed.

Shortly thereafter Alistair and I excused ourselves; we got a lot of knowing glances and winks as we left, but I didn't care. Everyone knew what we were going to be doing all night, and I couldn't find it in me to be bothered by that at all.

Offering me his arm, Alistair walked me back to the estate; if I hadn't been holding on, I was sure I could have floated there on my own personal cloud. Mistress Leta was waiting up in the dining room; when we walked through the door, she demanded, "Well?"

Alistair laughed, and I held out my hand, sparkly ring flashing; she squealed and hugged me, then with a nudge and a wink informed us there was a snack waiting for us in our room. She headed to bed. We went to our own room, and I opened the door to find a bit of a shock. We had a small table set up with two chairs, a platter of food just waiting, an open bottle of wine with two glasses, and the bed was covered in rose petals. The smell in the room was heavenly. The only light came from the hearth, which was lit and crackling merrily; the chairs that normally sat in front had been moved, and a thick blanket was laid out on the stone floor looking inviting.

I gasped, and Alistair shot me an impish grin. "Like it?"

"You…really? You did all this?"

"Well, technically, Mistress Leta did all this, with Leliana's help or advice at least, but yes, it was my idea."

"So sure I was going to say yes, were you?" I teased, and he flushed slightly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding making eye contact. "Well, not really, no, but Leliana was pretty sure, and I definitely hoped…"

I threw myself into his arms, pulling his head down for a kiss. "If there was any doubt in your mind that I'd say yes, you're in so much trouble…"

He kissed me back, and then took advantage when my mouth opened, pressing his tongue in to stroke against my own, drawing a low moan. He pulled away after a moment, taking off his doublet and hanging it carefully before turning to pour wine and gesture to the blanket by the fire.

"Have a seat?" He reached out to hand me a glass of wine.

I shook my head. "I'd like to change first. You go ahead, and I'll be right there."

I managed to work my way out of the dress without help – Leliana had informed me that she ordered the dress specially so that was possible, since normally a formal gown would require a lady's maid to get out of, and I was unlikely to have one of those on the road. _I__'m unlikely to have one of those ever, honestly._ I hung the dress and then pulled one of Alistair's cotton tunics out of the armoire and slipped it over my head.

I walked over to settle on the blanket beside a very smug-looking Alistair, who handed me a glass of wine after giving me a lascivious look. I felt a bit awkward about being mostly undressed, when he was still fully clothed in essentially a tuxedo; his eyes seemed drawn to my bare legs as if by magnetism. I was vaguely embarrassed, for no reason I could explain given our relationship, but

it was also sort of sexy, though, and I resolved to tease the poor man for a while as we sat.

I sat leaning back on one hand, legs crossed in front of me, and sipped my wine. One shoulder and the slope of my breast peeked through the wide neck of the tunic. "So what do you think? Will Sereda work out?"

"Hmm?" He looked distracted, staring at my legs like that. He dragged his gaze up to my face. "Oh, yes. She'll do fine. Certainly better than that Bhelen. I was worried for a moment that Duncan was going to recruit him into the Grey Wardens. Being technically dead will be perfect for him. And Sereda seems to have a good handle on how to manage her people, as well as some brilliant ideas. She's a better monarch than Cailan, for sure."

The bitterness in his voice surprised me, and I realised that we hadn't really talked much about Cailan, or rather, Theron, since he had extended the olive branch in Redcliffe. "Do you hate him so much?"

He sighed. "I don't, not really. It's just…he had everything. Everything I didn't. Parents who loved him. Education, training, advisors, a wife…and he still messed it all up. How could he have been so blind? Such a glory hound? I'll never understand. I had nothing, before the Wardens, and even I could see how vain, how easily manipulated he was."

"He was also sheltered, though, Alistair. Something neither of us can claim, and from the outside, it seems like it would be a good thing…but it's often not. He never saw danger. Never fought anyone who would actually fight back. Never knew that life isn't idyllic and easy for most people. He has never wanted for anything, which means he values nothing. If it takes you a year to save up to buy something, you treasure it once it's finally yours. If you can just wave your hand and have it handed to you, you never understand what it's worth.

"It's not his fault that he trusted Loghain. Who wouldn't? He wasn't smart, I agree, but the fault lies with your father, with Loghain, and with Anora, who sheltered him from life and never gave him a chance to learn anything. I bet at some point he was at least vaguely interested in actually ruling Ferelden, but instead of encouraging that, I imagine Loghain and Anora brushed him off and sent him outside to play, like a child. Why would he see the world in any way other than as a child after living like that for twenty, thirty years?"

"I suppose. It's just so…"

"Disappointingly human?"

He grinned at me. "Yes, that."

"Don't tell him that." We shared a grin. "Do you think you'll be able to put your resentment for your father aside and try to get know your brother?"

He sighed. "I'm going to try. It's hard though. I keep thinking...how could he not know? Why didn't anyone care? I know you say my mother and Maric both loved me...but that's hard to really accept. And it makes me resent Cailan for having what I didn't."

"I truly don't believe he knew, though. Honestly. When I accidentally spilled the beans...he was shocked. Apparently he went around harassing the castle staff to figure out who I was talking about. I guess he never looks in a mirror, because honestly, how anyone could miss the resemblance is beyond me."

He shifted closer to me on the blanket. "Oh, I see how it is," he teased. "You only love me because I look like the King."

I giggled. "Yes, that's right. Actually, I'm mostly hoping to cash in on it - we could go around the country doing impersonations for coin. Much more lucrative than this Grey Warden business - how much do we get paid anyway?"

He laughed. "Not much. Though the way Aedan does it we don't need a salary - we'll be rich just from the rewards claimed for doing everyone's dirty work." He shifted even closer, so his long leg laid on the blanket alongside mine; I could feel the warmth of his body through the fabric of his pants. "But, you know, I don't really want to talk about either of our brothers right now, do you?"

I leaned against his side, resting my head on his shoulder. "Not even a little bit."

"Were you truly surprised about this?" I glanced up to see him looking insecure, biting his lip and avoiding my gaze.

"I had absolutely no idea. But it isn't because I didn't want to, I just figured that we'd wait until after the Blight to get ourselves sorted out. I just haven't let myself think that far ahead, yet. But I am incredibly," I got onto my knees facing him, reaching out to cup his cheek with my hand, forcing his eyes to meet mine, "incredibly glad you did. You're perfect, you know that? And all mine. It's official, even. Too late to back out now!"

He reached for me, and I went to him, straddling his lap, the soft fabric of his pants rubbing against my inner thighs, his arms around me, big warm hands splayed on my hip and back. "Never. I told you. I've seen what it's like to imagine a future without you in it, and I don't want to live that way. This," he took my hand and held it up so my ring caught the firelight, briefly showering rainbows around the room, "is me making sure I never have to. I love you, Sierra."

I kissed him then, carding my hands into his thick hair, tracing his lip with my tongue. His hands roamed my body, kneading and pulling me closer to him, skimming near my breasts and gripping my ass, and I could feel the evidence that he was as desperate as I to get more intimate. I leaned back and smiled at him.

"You, love, are wearing entirely too many clothes." I began unbuttoning his shirt, and he just watched me with dark eyes, distracting me every now and then by stroking my bare thigh or ass. I struggled to get all the buttons undone, and then began kissing my way down his neck to his golden chest as it was bared for me. He gasped as I began licking and sucking one of his nipples, and finally managed to shrug the shirt all the way off.

When I gently bit into the aroused little bump with my teeth, he groaned and pushed me away, grabbing the end of the tunic barely covering me and pulling it up over my head, leaving me nude in the firelight. His gaze raked over me, his breath fast, his pupils blown with desire, and I surrendered to him as he pulled me to him for a savage kiss. Then he mimicked my actions and began tracing down my neck with his lips and teeth, making me twitch and grind against the bulge in his trousers nestled between my thighs.

When he reached my breast, instead of attacking just the nipple, he sucked as much of the flesh as he could fit into his mouth, while his tongue lashed the erect nub on the end, and I cried out, writhing in his lap while he held me relentlessly and switched sides, repeating the process. I ground against him harder, reaching for my orgasm, when he suddenly stopped, lifting me and laying me down on the blanket in front of him. I growled.

"You're right, I am wearing too many clothes." He grinned at my frustrated moan, climbing to his feet to unlace his trousers and toss them onto a chair. Standing naked in the firelight, his skin glowing gold, his perfect chiselled body on display, he was erect and slightly tousled and completely gorgeous. I whispered a brief prayer of thanks to whatever deity created him and then allowed me to be near him.

I had the urge to taste him, to apply my lips and tongue to the parts of his body I hadn't yet, but when I sat up, he shook his head, dropping to his knees at my feet and pressing me back down. "As much as I love your mouth, not today."

He leaned forward to crawl up my body, stopping only briefly to run his tongue into my wet slit, making me gasp and buck, before crawling even further. Still on hands and knees, he kissed me, and I wrapped my legs around his hips and dug my fingers into his shoulders trying to pull him closer.

He resisted, breaking the kiss to chuckle at me. "Not yet. First, I want you to come for me."

I moaned as I felt pressure against my slit, and then the warm, hard length of him parted my lips and slipped through my wetness without entering. I tilted my hips, trying to capture him, but he resisted and I felt the head of his cock nudge against my clit. I shuddered, unmet need now too desperate for release, and he chuckled darkly and did it again, and then again, grinding himself against my sensitive pearl.

"Come for me, Sierra. I want to see you come apart." And then he leaned down and bit my nipple, rubbing himself against me again, and I did. I cried out his name and spasmed, fire racing from my clit and abused nipple through my body until I couldn't breathe or think or do anything but feel and thrash. I came down from my high to find him beside me, stroking me gently, whispering sweet words of love and desire in my ear.

I took a shaky, ragged breath. "Andraste's tits, Alistair, you're going to be the death of me, one of these days."

"Not today," he whispered, and kissed me gently. "You are so incredibly beautiful, Sierra. So gorgeous and sexy, I don't even know what to do with myself. I just want you all the time."

"And now you have me. Permanently." I waved my ring, and he caught my hand, pressing his lips to my palm.

"Permanently," he agreed.

"Now please, no more talking, and just...I need you. Please?"

He kissed my lips, shuffling on top of me, and I gladly wrapped my legs around him as he pressed close. His tongue slipped into my mouth and he swallowed my gasp as he slowly worked his way inside me. And then we were moving together, each thrust and squeeze driving us higher, but he kept the pace slow so we approached our peaks gradually, hovering on the brink for long, torturous moments, before we tumbled over the edge together, our cries muffled by our entwined mouths.

Finally, when the shuddering stopped, he reluctantly withdrew and flopped beside me on the floor; I rolled into his side, my head on his shoulder, and admired my ring in the firelight. _I'm really engaged. I'm engaged to Alistair. _ I chuckled softly.

"What?"

"I just realised. Aedan's been pushing me to embrace being a Cousland – but, I suppose, now I'll actually be a Therein."

"I don't expect you to change your name, Sierra."

"And that's why I'm going to, love."

We finally relocated to the bed, ate the meal laid out by Mistress Leta, then made love again; we laid in bed, entwined together, and talked about our future. We decided we both wanted children, but not for a while after the Blight - we wanted some time to settle in to our lives together outside of travelling and fighting.

"Where do you think we'll live?" he asked.

"Amaranthine," I replied absentmindedly.

"You sound pretty sure of that."

I considered. "Actually, I guess I'm not that sure. With neither you nor Anora in charge, I don't know what will happen. But in the game, the Wardens are granted the Arling of Amaranthine, which is where the problems with the Architect and his crazy creations will happen."

"Huh. But Wardens aren't supposed to be political. How did that work?"

"Well, honestly, the Wardens are as political as anyone else, they just aren't supposed to start civil wars and things. It's an illusion that the Wardens aren't political. The First Warden practically rules the Anderfels." I grimaced, and then smoothed out my expression before Alistair could notice._ I don't want to argue about the Wardens, not tonight._ "Anyway, I guess things are just a bit...different, in Ferelden."

He chuckled. "We are a different lot, I'll give you that. Wonder what Cailan will do?"

"Guess we will have to wait and see. I'm not super thrilled at the idea of living at the Vigil, I admit."

"The Vigil?"

"The name of the fortress where the Arling of Amaranthine is ruled from. Vigil's Keep. Big, ugly, and poorly maintained. And there's a Deep Roads entrance in the basement, which I'm hoping we can seal up before the darkspawn attack...yet another thing to talk to Sereda about. Because I haven't any idea how to get hold of the dwarf that sealed it after the attack in game. Can't even remember his name - though his brother's name is Dworkin."

Alistair choked. "Dworkin? Really?"

"Hey, I didn't pick it. He's an explosives expert, actually. Sort of crazy, but fun all the same. His brother's a stone mason, and a good one...but if we can't find them, we need to see if some of Sereda's people can give us a hand. After we oust Rendon Howe, of course."

Alistair sighed. "One more thing to add to the to-do list."

He sounded so tired, I considered letting him sleep...but then I thought of a better idea.

"Is it still today? Or is it tomorrow yet?"

"That doesn't even make sense. I'm pretty sure it's after midnight, if that's what you're asking."

"Good."

"Why?"

I disentangled myself and settled on my knees between his thighs. I licked my lips. "Because you said 'not today,' but it isn't anymore."

* * *

A/N:

So I created a summary of the story to date - it occurred to me I should probably do that, since it's been almost 2 years since I started posting this story - but I didn't want to make it a separate chapter, and apparently I'm incapable of keeping it brief, so I'm adding to the end of this chapter. Anyone who doesn't want to read it, stop here; anyone who'd like a reminder of how we got here, take a look.

As always, I don't own Dragon Age, I just play in their sandbox.

A million thanks to my fabulous betas, Kira Tamarion and Melysande.

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, followed, or favourited this story. Please send me reviews! I love to know what you love, what you hate, what things I spelled wrong and completely missed...just let me know!

Reviews:

Ajp25: Poor Aedan. He's got the whole over-protective thing going on because Sierra's the only family he has left, plus the whole 'ick - my sister is a sexual being' thing going on. It's understandable, hopefully, and Sierra forgives him for it, but she doesn't need to build a relationship built on being equal partners with him, so he gets away with a lot more than Alistair...Sereda's ambitious, but more than that, she knows how to use her momentum. The Deshyrs are so happy to have her back they'd approve almost anything - they'll regret it tomorrow, but it'll be too late. Clever girl.

Ioialoha: It probably is too neat, and I predict a whole lot of morning-after regrets and behind-the-scened scheming to try to change things...fortunately Sierra won't have to see any of that, so I won't have to write it :)

Biorr the Old: Yeah I don't think Orzammar would be my favourite place in Thedas. Not big on being miles underground, I have to admit. There'll be some politicking before they get to leave, sadly...

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Bhelen is a degree of ruthless I don't think I'll ever understand, but I don't think he's actually evil. He's been steeped in cutthroat dwarven politics since birth, and rewarded for duplicity and selfishness. I kind of can't blame him, you know? Besides, Sereda isn't nearly as ruthless, and she's his sister. Condemning him to death with be vengeance, but she'd have to live with herself in the morning.

Jarjaxle: Exactly. She can't have Bhelen around causing problems, but she's not ruthless enough to kill him outright. Plus it'd be a waste of resources that could be thrown at the darkspawn...

InsidiousAgent: I love the strategically placed Crow. Can't get any better than that! I imagine some of the Shapers are more pleased than others - I imagine some of them are probably the most conservative, resistant-to-change dwarves there are in Orzammar, honestly. And can you really blame Sierra for a bit of a dramatic streak? Her life is a dramatic fiction story, after all ;) I am not a bit religion fan either, tho I think in Leli's case, at least eventually she comes to understand that the Chantry and the Maker are not necessarily the same thing. So you might not totally want to kill her by the end of the discussion... ;)

Guest: I understand baby-brain completely, no worries. And I promise to keep updating this story until it's done. I've put way too much time in - I can't stop now! I've never tried figuring out account stuff with a mobile version - it's probably not fun. I wish you luck, and thanks!

Judy (Guest): Thanks, as always!

thinkdragonage: Don't you just love wish fulfillment? I love fan fiction, for that if no other reason :)

Dforce76: Ooh Castles! I'm jealous. Glad you're enjoying this! Thanks :)

* * *

Cast (non-game characters or those taken out of game context only):

Sierra - main character, raised on Earth, somehow transported to Thedas

Duncan (Tomas): The Warden-Commander of Ferelden, saved by Sierra in Ostagar

Cailan (Theron): The King of Ferelden, saved by Sierra in Ostagar, in hiding in Redcliffe

Aedan: The Warden, recruited by Duncan prior to Ostagar. A human noble, and Sierra's brother.

Prince: Aedan's Mabari wardog

Dariel: An apostate, knows only healing spells, sold to a mercenary by his family when his magic manifested (OC)

Anders: A Circle mage rescued from solitary confinement by being recruited to the Grey Wardens

Solona: A Circle mage conscripted by Duncan (mage origin)

Jowan: An escaped Circle blood mage, recruited by Duncan

Faren: A Castless dwarf found in the Carta dungeon when Sierra was captured (dwarf commoner origin)

Sereda: An exiled dwarf noble found in the Deep Roads and made Queen (dwarf noble origin)

Bel: A bald, beardless dwarf, one of Lord Dace's men, wainted in Aeducan Thaig and recruited by Duncan (OC)

Gorim: A dwarf warrior, Sereda's lover, exiled to the surface, aiding the Grey Wardens finding Sereda in the deep roads

Summary of the story to Chapter 87:

Sierra, a twenty-four year-old business consultant from Earth, begins having blackouts, during which she believes she is dreaming about characters from Dragon Age: Origins, her favourite video game. Raised by foster-parents after being found abandoned as a newborn, Sierra lacks friends or family on Earth, and medical experts agree the blackouts are a psychiatric symptom – until they start lasting longer and longer, and she begins waking with injuries from events that happen in her 'dreams'.

Accepting that she is no longer dreaming, Sierra wakes in Thedas to find herself in the Korcari Wilds around the time of the battle at Ostagar. She finds her way to the battle, planning to try to warn the King and the Grey Wardens about the defeat, only to arrive too late. She panics as she sees Cailan attacked by an ogre, and after developing a strange pressure sensation, darkspawn around her drop dead as she passes out. She wakes to discover that somehow, Duncan, the Warden-Commander, and King Cailan have survived.

The travel to Lothering to meet up with Aedan, the Warden recruited by Duncan before Ostagar, as well as Alistair and Morrigan. The group is incredulous about Sierra's origin, but cannot deny her unusual knowledge of their lives, as well as her strange Earth clothing. After much discussion, they agree to believe Sierra. She develops a close relationship with Duncan, who she sees as a father figure. Cailan develops jealousy of this closeness, believing Sierra to be having a sexual relationship with the senior Warden. Duncan and Aedan begin teaching Sierra to fight.

Periodically, Sierra blacks out in Thedas, only to wake in the hospital on Earth where she's been in an unusual coma – one where she does not require food, water, or hygiene. The doctors are baffled, made worse each time she returns to Thedas.

The group recruits Sten and Leliana, then head to Redcliffe to rescue the town from Connor's madness and leave Cailan behind somewhere safe while Duncan goes to Denerim alone to prevent Riordan's capture by Rendon Howe, as well as find the location of Haven. The group defeats the undead army attacking Redcliffe and Morrigan casts a powerful sleep spell on Connor before he can do any more damage.

Leaving Sierra behind with Morrigan and Jowan to keep Connor asleep, the group departs for the Circle Tower. Sierra blacks out and goes back to Earth, only to resurface inside Kinloch Hold as the group fights their way through the tower. They defeat Uldred and rescue a group of mages, securing aid for Connor as well as against the Blight, and recruit Wynne to their party. Irving, the First Enchanter, seeing Sierra use an unknown power against Uldred during the fight calls her a templar, which she denies as she's never been trained.

Back in Redcliffe, Morrigan frees Connor from the demon. Sierra learns from a Circle mage who researches templar abilities that she is indeed somehow a templar despite the lack of formal training. Aedan recruits Solona to the Wardens on Sierra's advice. They receive a map from Duncan providing the location of Haven, and as they travel Sierra begins trying to learn templar skills from Alistair.

Sierra develops a close, sibling relationship with Aedan, which is misunderstood by much of the group who assume she is cheating on Duncan with the youngest Cousland. The two discover they are the same age and share a birthday.

On the way to Haven, they are ambushed by Zevran and the Crows; prepared for that ambush, they outwit his assassins, killing them easily, and recruit the elf.

They also discover Sierra has some strange power over darkspawn – they seem to avoid attacking her, going around her as though she didn't exist, which allows her the ability to fight them despite her poor dagger skills.

In Haven, they find Genitivi, clear out the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and come to the Gauntlet, in which Sierra and Aedan learn from the spirit of Bryce Cousland that they actually are siblings – twins, in fact. When Sierra and Aedan were born, she was unconscious and they were unable to wake her despite seeking aid from healers and mages. Aedan was never told about being a twin so he wouldn't feel overshadowed by the loss. No one has any idea how Sierra ended up on Earth.

They complete the Gauntlet and retrieve a pinch of Andraste's ashes, then go back to Redcliffe to revive Eamon. On the way, Alistair, under the misunderstanding that Sierra has slept with Duncan, Aedan, and possibly Cailan, accuses her of being a whore, and they argue. Aedan tells Sierra Alistair is attracted to her; she believes she cannot be in a relationship with anyone when she could end up back on Earth any time, and refuses to believe someone who liked her would call her a whore.

Eamon awakes in Redcliffe and discovers that Cailan is alive. They plan to go forward as though he isn't, leaving the King in Redcliffe posing as a mercenary, while the Wardens collect the treaties. They will only reveal Cailan's survival in the Landsmeet, in case Loghain tries to kill him. Cailan makes a second pass at Sierra, who refuses him, leaving both of them angry at the other.

The Wardens travel to the Brecilian Forest, where Sierra and Aedan convince Zathrian that she is a seer, and using her knowledge, convince him that he must go to Witherfang and end the curse; he does, and the werewolves are freed. Alistair apologises to Sierra for believing she was a slut, and Sierra forgives him.

On the way out of the ruins, they fight the dragon, who almost kills Alistair. Sierra intervenes, saving him but getting severely burnt in the process. Once Wynne heals her, she tells Aedan she didn't save Duncan and Cailan for Alistair only to watch him die; Alistair overhears this, finally confronting Sierra, telling her he loves her and asking if she loves him. She admits to it, and he kisses her, but she refuses him on the grounds that it will only lead to heartbreak if she ends up back on Earth.

The group gets agreement from Lanaya that the Dalish will aid the Wardens against the Blight, and the group leaves for Denerim to check on the status of Loghain, the civil war, and complete some tasks. On the way there, Alistair convinces Sierra to give a relationship between them a chance. After seeing them together and happy, Aedan finally admits to the group he'd been in a secret relationship with Zevran. No one is surprised.

Outside of Denerim, the group is ambushed by mercenaries hired by Loghain to capture the Wardens; Leliana is hit by a poisoned arrow, and the group captures an apostate travelling with the mercenaries who surrenders and helps to heal the bard. The apostate's name is Dariel, and the group agrees to allow him to travel with them until he decides what he wants to do with his life.

The also defeat mercenaries hired by Marjolaine to kill Leliana.

In Denerim, they discover that there is a rebellion brewing against Loghain's rule, and he has pulled the army and most of the city guard to defend the Palace, leaving Denerim to be over-run by crime. The group breaks up an extortion ring, aids the few city guards remaining in the city, smuggles money and supplies into the Alienage to prevent the slavers from getting a foothold, and kills Marjolaine. Alistair and Sierra have sex for the first time.

Sierra meets Gorim in Denerim and asks for his help in navigating Orzammar politics; he tells them that, while he is now married with a child on the way, he was Sereda Aeducan's lover before her exile. He believes it possible that she could have survived to find the Legion of the Dead – she had been obsessed with the Legion growing up, and knew their maps by heart.

They leave for Soldier's Peak, and Duncan joins them, having seen them in Denerim. They meet Levi Dryden and head for the peak. On the way, Sierra blacks out and goes back to Earth; when she comes back to Thedas, she brings her iPhone and a video she took from the game showing her character interacting with the companions in camp. The group discovers that Sierra played the game as a female character – and Alistair realises this means she had romanced him in the game. Insecure, he accuses her of using her game knowledge to trick him into falling in love with her.

Upset, Sierra blacks out and goes back to Earth, only to eventually wake inside Soldier's Peak before the group arrives. She meets Avernus, and he is fascinated by the abilities she describes regarding the darkspawn. They strike a deal – he will find a way to put off the Calling, to decrease deaths during the Joining, and to restore Warden fertility in exchange for her becoming a Warden.

The group arrives and kills the demons in the fortress. Alistair tries to apologise to Sierra, but she does not accept. Morrigan aids Avernus with the fertility part of the deal, and when they succeed, Sierra undergoes the Joining. Aedan, Duncan, and Alistair arrive too late to stop her, and when she begins convulsing and doesn't wake up, Morrigan tells Alistair it is his fault she has taken this drastic measure.

While Sierra is unconscious, she dreams of the Archdemon, but then also dreams about the Architect. In her dream, he speaks to her, telling her he 'sent her far away' so she could not ruin his plan to try and free the darkspawn from the Calling.

She finally wakes, only to find out that the other Wardens cannot sense her. They are uncertain if she really is a Grey Warden or not. Duncan convinces them to keep her Joining a secret, less Weisshaupt try to capture her and experiment on her like they had Fiona.

Avernus tells them his theory on Sierra's templar abilities – apparently the strength of a templar's skill is dependent on their inherent magical resistance, and Sierra, growing up on Earth as she has, is extremely resistant to magic – so much so that she manifested advanced abilities even without training.

They leave Soldier's Peak, deciding to stop by the Circle and recruit Anders before going to Redcliffe and putting Solona, Anders, and Jowan through the Joining. Sierra has to use her unusual templar abilities as a bargaining chip to get Greagoir to agree to the recruitment of Anders. When he is freed, it becomes clear he has been abused and neglected while in solitary, and even Wynne is horrified by his condition.

They take a boat back to Redcliffe, where Sierra finally talks to Cailan and forgives his attempt to convince her to sleep with him. Alistair has been trying to apologise to her since Soldier's Peak, and after she rescues a child, Blake, who is being beaten and neglected by Eamon and Isolde, Alistair helps her take care of him. Sierra threatens Eamon if he ever allows such abuse again, and Cailan takes her side. Eventually they talk, and Sierra tells Alistair about the possible game endings that had been worrying her since they had separated – him leaving for Kirkwall and becoming a drunk, or breaking up with the Warden when he became King. Finally understanding each other, the two reconcile.

It turns out Anders knows Solona, and without explaining why, it becomes obvious there is some major conflict between the two. On their way to Orzammar, Solona finally explains: she and Anders had been lovers in the Circle, but he had cheated on her repeatedly between escape attempts and she had broken off their relationship in response.

Anders fills in the gaps eventually: Solona had not known that before they met, Anders had a mentor named Danielle, who had adopted him as a little brother in the Circle. A templar had taken advantage of their relationship, threatening Anders to force Danielle to allow him to rape and beat her. This was only discovered when he impregnated her, and then beat her so badly she ended up in the infirmary; Anders almost died saving her life. She was sent to another Circle, and Anders never saw her again; the templar was given a slap on the wrist and transferred to Kirkwall. This experience left Anders desperate to escape, and also fearful of showing love for anyone, as he knew it could be used against them. In order to avoid the templars realising how important Solona was to him, he slept around so they could never pinpoint who he loved.

Sierra encouraged Anders to tell Solona the truth – it might not fix everything, but she deserved to know that she hadn't done something to drive him away. When he couldn't figure out a way, she suggested he write Solona a letter.

Finally they arrived in Orzammar. Duncan went to Lord Harrowmont and negotiated a deal – he would write them a pass into the Deep Roads, and the Wardens would do their best to locate Sereda Aeducan, the exiled heir to the late king, the moderate ground between Bhelen and Harrowmont, and the only one who might be able to unite both sides of the conflict. The night before the group was to leave for the Deep Roads, Sierra went back to Earth, only to reappear in the middle of Dust Town. She was kidnapped by the Carta and held for ransom by Jarvia; in the Carta's dungeon, she met Faren Brosca, and Leske, his former friend who'd betrayed Faren to Jarvia, then eventually betrayed Jarvis and had his tongue cut out in revenge.

All three were rescued by Alistair, Zevran, Leliana, and Morrigan; the others had gone ahead into Aeducan Thaig to find the dwarves Sierra knew would be in danger there. It turned out Jarvia had tried to force Solona to fix the Provings – instead, she pretended to go along with it just long enough for Sierra to be rescued. Leske was killed by Jarvia during the escape.

Duncan had found and rescued the dwarves in Aeducan Thaig; one of the soldiers, a completely bald, beardless dwarf named Bel had been tainted, and Duncan had made him a Warden.

When everyone was reunited, they left for the Deep Roads. They used maps provided by Gorim to find the Legion of the Dead, and discovered Gorim had been correct: Sereda had survived. She agreed to help the Wardens and commit to fighting the Blight if they helped her reclaim her throne. Duncan was disoriented, affected somehow by the Archdemon, so the group left him with the Legion as they travelled to find Branka. They sided with Caridin and Branka was killed; then Sereda convinced Caridin to search the Deep Roads for deactivated golems and to reform the golem army Orzammar had lost, instead of sacrificing himself. He agreed and followed the group back to Orzammar.

Back in the city, Sereda took back her throne, Bhelen joined the Legion of the Dead, and Sereda made Bhelen's unborn child her heir in case she didn't have children of her own. She forced the Landsmeet to agree to allowing a Casteless parent to join their partner's caste regardless of the gender of the child, and formed a military caste filled with Casteless who could fight, which she also pledged to aid against the Blight on the surface.


	15. Chapter 89: Arming and Disarming

This is the original, unedited version of this chapter, complete with graphic descriptions of sex. If that doesn't interest you, please see "There and Back Again" under my profile for a non-graphic version.

Also, missing from the summary I wrote last chapter was a reference to the problems between Solona and Anders. Which is relevant for this chapter. In brief, they had been lovers in the Circle, but Anders began trying to escape, and also began sleeping around with other mages and apprentices, and Solona finally broke things off with him. It turns out that she was not aware of a tragic event in Anders' past, where a mage he was close to, a surrogate 'big sister', was stalked by a templar and in the end forced to submit to rape and torture because he threatened to harm Anders. Anders feared templars doing the same thing to Solona if they realised he loved her, so to protect her from harm, he slept around to lead the templars to believe he didn't love anyone. He never told Solona in a misguided attempt to protect her.

* * *

Chapter Eighty-Nine: *Arming and Disarming

After making love on and off all night, we finally fell into an exhausted sleep in the early hours of the morning. Someone pounding on the door woke us sometime later; the room was pitch dark, and I had absolutely no idea what time it was.

Alistair slipped out of bed and fumbled for some trousers, swearing as he banged his shin in the dark. "This better be an emergency," he growled as he opened the door, while I hid under the covers.

I heard Zevran's voice. "It's always an emergency when Grey Wardens haven't eaten all day, no?"

"We ate earlier. Sometime. What time is it, anyway?"

"Mid-afternoon, sleepyheads. Time to get up! There's an armourer here to measure Sierra, and Duncan wants her to go talk to some weaponsmith about a weapon idea she had?"

I swore. _ It did need to be done, but did it have to be done today? _ "So why are you standing there instead of Duncan? You offered, I bet. Hoping to catch a peek at something, you pervert?"

"I'd say I already caught a peek at something, Bellissima, but it isn't you."

I heard Alistair mutter something uncomplimentary, and I laughed. "Go away and let me change, Zevran!"

He laughed. "I very much doubt you have anything on that needs changing, but I suppose you might want to get dressed."

Alistair slammed the door behind him, and then fumbled for the arcane lamp we'd left beside the door. Bluish light blossomed, and I crawled out of bed to see Alistair standing near the door with only low-riding trousers. I gave him an appreciative once-over: mussed up hair, hickeys, fingernail marks..._oh yes, Zevran got an eyeful, alright_.

"Do we have to get out of bed?" I whined.

He was looking at me naked, and his eyes darkened. "If you don't want me keeping you in until tomorrow, you better put something on quick," he teased.

"Eep!" I scrambled for a pair of panties and a bra, getting a whiff of myself as I struggled into them. "Oh, ugh. I need a bath. What I wouldn't give for a shower! I smell like stale sex and unwashed human. Though I suppose that's better than wet dog."

Alistair came over and pulled me into a hug, sniffing me as he did. "Smells good to me."

"That's because I smell like sex with you! That poor armourer..."

"He'll live. He's probably worked with Oghren before, after all."

"Point. Even stale sex smells better than that!"

Finally ready, I headed out into the main room with Alistair on my heels. I wore the clothes I usually wore under my armour, trousers and a shirt; Alistair was dressed similarly, though his were looser fitting, since he didn't need new armour. There was a dwarf waiting impatiently for us, ignoring the chaos as people came in and out around him. He was neatly dressed, with carefully coifed hair, a neatly groomed beard, and a waxed moustache that rivalled that of any villain from a 1920's silent film on Earth.

He looked...prissy. If there was such a thing as Orlesian dwarves, he would be one.

Mistress Leta introduced us; his name was Paider, and he was not pleased to meet me. He followed me to the library, since I wasn't about to take him into my room, which smelled of sex and looked like a hurricane had landed there. Solona was sitting with a book in her lap, and she watched in amusement as the man measured me, almost without speaking at all. He pushed or pinched when he needed me to move something, had me bend over and twist, and then asked a few terse questions about my fighting style.

"And what is this you are wearing?"

I looked down. "This? I put on what I wear under my armour. I thought that would be helpful."

"This? You wear this under armour? Do you not have proper arming clothes?"

"Um..."

"Ach! I cannot be expected to work like this." He paced and muttered to himself; for a prissy sort, he swore like a sailor. _Must be a dwarven thing._ "I shall make new arming clothes as well. And I suppose the rest of your...friends, need arming clothes as well?"

"I suppose? They all wear the same as me, more or less. Half the time, Alistair wears pyjamas."

Solona started laughing outright at the dwarf's outrage.

"I must do measurements. Go! Go! Send the first one up, while I measure this one."

He stomped over to Solona, demanding she get up.

"What? But I don't wear armour! I don't need arming clothes under my robes." Solona looked decidedly less amused now that the dwarf's attention was on her. "Hey, stop pinching!"

I laughed all the way to the dining room, where I organised those present into a lineup to get measured. I did a mental head count: Zevran and I both needed new leathers after the Deep Roads, and Leliana could use some as well. Duncan needed an updated set of mail, and Faren's plate was mostly scavenged crap, though I wondered how the prissy little armourer would deal with measuring a Casteless. The others mostly needed new arming clothes, _apparently_, but I thought that Sten and perhaps Bel and Oghren might benefit from new gear too. In fact, Alistair and Aedan, plus the mages, were possibly the only ones who didn't need new armour. I briefly felt sorry for the armourer, until one of the bruises where he'd pinched me started to ache.

When I got everyone organised, I realised one was missing - my brother. "Zev? Where's Aedan?"

"The Warden, shall we say, overindulged last night. He is...resting, I believe."

"Resting? You came and woke me this morning, but Aedan's still resting?"

I turned and headed to their room, ignoring Zev's protests. I didn't knock, but just barged in; the door wasn't locked. "Aedan?" I spoke loudly, teasing the poor hung-over fool.

"Fuck off." The mumble came from underneath a mound of blankets on the bed. I reached over and pulled, making Aedan scramble to catch one and hold it over himself like a shield. "What are you doing here? Get out!"

"Your boyfriend woke me from my well-deserved sleep; you can blame him."

"Sierra, seriously, get out. I'm naked!"

"I gathered. You have a blanket, so just relax."

He flopped back on the bed, groaning theatrically. "I hate you."

I sat on the edge of the bed. "I told you, blame Zev. He even tried to get a peek at me naked, I think. Got an eyeful of Alistair instead."

He groaned again. "I didn't need to know that!"

I laughed. "If I can handle the thought of you and Zev, you can cope with me and Alistair. Hey, at least we're going to be legitimate, one of these days..."

"Zev and I are as legitimate as we're likely to get."

"I know. Stupid. Why won't the Chantry let two men marry? No one else gets their knickers in a knot about it here, why should _they_?"

"Could we not discuss this now, while I'm, you know, naked?"

I chuckled. "Fine. Look, I just wanted to see how you're doing. We haven't had a chance to talk much lately."

He sighed. "You mean, am I okay with you and Alistair and the whole marriage thing."

"Well, sure, that, but also just in general. With Duncan like..." I just couldn't continue that sentence. "Well, a lot more responsibility is falling on your shoulders again."

"I'm fine. Really. It's not the first time I've had to lead, and it won't be the last. I'm even trained for it. And, for the record, I'm fine with you and Alistair, though I will murder him if he does something stupid to hurt you again. As long as you don't share the details about your sex life, I'm good." He sat up, taking my hand. "I'm happy for you, sis. You deserve to be happy."

I hugged him tightly and then stood. "You need to get measured for arming clothes, I've been informed. So get your ass out of bed, will you? If you don't, I'm sending Sten in here next."

He threw a pillow at me that bounced harmlessly off onto the floor. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he laughed. "Fine, fine. I'll be down in a few minutes."

I left him and went to find Duncan, who'd pulled rank, been measured first, and was waiting for me. "Sereda told me the name of a weaponsmith who might be able to make a - what did you call them? Bola launcher? If you're agreeable, we could go now."

I agreed. "But I need to change first. I'm fine with everyone here seeing me in this, but I'm not going out in stained tight cotton trousers. Two minutes?"

He nodded, and I headed to my room, stopping to grab a bucket of warm water to wash up with on my way. I scrubbed myself down, changed into a clean, if not fancy dress, put my hair in a ponytail, and met up with Duncan in the dining room. He offered me his arm, and we left together after I received a quick kiss from Alistair. Aedan was at the back of the line for being measured, and waved as I left.

The weaponsmith, a dwarf named Dallard, was quite possibly wider than he was tall, and he had a shop just off the main market. There were crossbows on display in the front area, but when he showed us unto the back, I stopped, amazed. There were a variety of ballistae, essentially giant spear launchers, as well as trebuchets and other siege weaponry in various states of assembly. And behind that was a range for testing weapons. The place was huge.

Dallard looked at Duncan, ignoring me entirely. Duncan explained the problem - bringing down a flying dragon so it could be killed on the ground - and then gestured to me. Dallard looked at me skeptically, and I sighed.

"Where I come from, there's a weapon called a bola. Essentially, it's a couple rocks tied together with rope. When thrown, the rope will tangle around the legs of a creature and make it fall. I'm wondering if a ballista or something like it can be altered to launch a bola hard enough to tangle around a dragon's wings."

He looked somewhat intrigued, but still confused. He found some rope somewhere, and a variety of what looked like small stone cannonballs. I didn't even ask what they were normally used for. He handed me the rope, which I stared at in shock. I hadn't the foggiest idea how to make a bola, really; I'd only seen them in National Geographic television specials about South American aboriginal cultures.

"Um, okay well, keep in mind I've never made one of these before. I've only seen pictures. But if you can tie a rock to the end there? And I'll tie one here..."

It turns out that tying a rock on the end of a rope is harder than it sounds. In the end, I tied two loops, forming a little basket to hold the rock. Dallard did something similar on his end.

"Okay, so if I remember correctly, you hold the rope in the middle," I hoisted the heavy rope, "swing it around like this, and then throw it in the direction you want it to go."

I tossed the rope towards a practice dummy, missing entirely; Dallard laughed, and even Duncan chuckled.

"Fine, smarty pants, you try." I retrieved the weapon and handed Duncan the rope.

He spun it a couple of times, testing its weight, and then launched it towards the dummy. One of the rocks struck the thing dead on, and the other pulled the rope off to the side. He collected the bola and tried again, finally getting the rope to tangle around the dummy like I'd predicted.

"I've heard you can make them with three or more balls, though why that's better than two I'm not sure. I think, if you add a third rope here," I pointed at the centre of the rope being held by Dallard, "you spin it with the third rock in your hand. Though I could be wrong. And apparently they alter the weight of the rocks, sometimes using uneven weights to make it tangle better. But I thought that if you could somehow load two rocks into a ballista-type thing, and fire them simultaneously, you might be able to bring down a dragon."

"And it would need to be mobile, unlike a ballista. Perhaps mounted on a cart, or carried by hand. Maybe more like a crossbow than a ballista?" Duncan added.

Dallard was nodding, but by the vacant look on his face, I could tell he wasn't listening. He was thinking. He fiddled with one of the rocks, lifting the rope to test its weight, maybe; I wasn't really sure, he could have just been fidgeting. Finally he turned to me.

"How much do you want?" he asked, his voice rough and gravelly.

"Uh, pardon? How many of them do we need? I don't know. I guess it depends how hard they are to make, and how big they are-"

"No. How much do you want to sell me this idea? Exclusively, obviously. I won't pay for something you're going to sell to others."

"I, uh, Duncan?"

I turned to Duncan, confused; his expression was amused, and he appeared to be holding in a laugh. "I forget you've never dealt with dwarves before. Would you like me to negotiate for you?"

"Please?" _I don't even know what you're negotiating for._

Duncan turned to Dallard. "How much do you think you can sell a unit for?"

"Well, that depends on the demand, I suppose. Won't be that much need - Nevarrans, maybe, and Grey Wardens, obviously; might be able to adapt the design for more conventional uses as well, I suppose."

"Come now, my friend. How much?"

"Perhaps...ten sovereigns per unit?"

"So twenty, then." The dwarf grimaced, and Duncan smiled. "And that means at least fifteen of that is pure profit. I'd say twenty-five percent of the profit might be a reasonable starting place..."

I tuned it out as the men haggled. I wasn't trying to make money on the deal, I just wanted to increase the chances of my family escaping a battle with the Archdemon alive. I examined the other weaponry mindlessly while they debated. Finally Duncan came over to me.

"You have a choice. You can take a lump sum payment now of two hundred fifty sovereigns, or you can take three sovereigns per unit he is able to sell for perpetuity. It's up to you." He dropped his voice and whispered, "If I were you, I'd take the three sovereigns per unit. It'll take a while to get the same amount of money, but based on how hard he's pushing the lump sum, he knows he can sell much more than that."

I was shocked. Two hundred sovereigns was an enormous fortune. That was probably the equivalent of millions on Earth. And some dwarf was going to hand me that much based on an idea alone? How did a random weaponsmith even have that much coin? But then...if I took three sovereigns per unit sold, that could provide me a solid income for years. I'd be less likely to lose it, have it stolen, or use it all and be left poor. And I might make more in the long-run...

_How does telling someone else about an idea that wasn't even mine make me rich? This isn't supposed to be that sort of fairy tale._

"Throw in a handful of the launchers for the Grey Wardens, and I'll take the three sovereigns per."

Dallard grimaced, but nodded. "I'll do you one better, missy. Instead of giving them to the Wardens, I'll sell them to her Highness Queen Sereda for her army, and even train some of her men to use them. She can bring them to the surface when the army leaves to combat the Blight, and you and I can make a little profit off it while we're at it."

I laughed. Duncan nodded, so I agreed as well.

"Now remember, we have an exclusive deal. You can't sell this idea to anyone else."

That was an easy promise to make. As long as the Archdemon was defeated, the rest was just gravy.

The measuring had all been done by the time we arrived back at the estate, and we had a surprise guest: Sereda. She was wearing fine clothes - trousers and a jacket that looked surprisingly feminine while still being more practical than a dress - and was lounging in the dining room, talking to Aedan and Gorim while everyone ate dinner. Duncan joined them, while I cornered Leliana and began stuffing my face.

I gestured to Sereda. "Leli, could I pull off that outfit?"

Leliana, sitting with an armful of rather smug-looking nug, inspected it critically. "If the design was altered for your slighter frame, I suppose. You want something like that?"

"Eventually, I think. Everyone keeps telling me I have to accept being a noblewoman, but I hate all those stinking dresses. I need something different, something still stylish, but not so...girly."

"I'll work on it, my friend."

"Thanks, Leli." I stopped, looking around. "Hey, where's Solona?"

As one of so few female companions, her absence stuck out.

"I think she and Anders are talking. Up in the library."

"Oh, Maker, I'd better go check that she hasn't lit him on fire."

I kissed Alistair briefly, then headed upstairs. I walked down the hallway, listening intently for voices. I didn't want to interrupt if the discussion was going well, but I wanted to be able to intervene if things got ugly.

No one was in the library when I arrived, however; deciding against looking any further, I grabbed a book on griffons and curled up on a chaise in the back corner. There was a little alcove, lit by an arcane lamp similar to those at Soldier's Peak, and a comfy chair. I could almost believe I was on Earth, sitting in my tiny spare room surrounded by my books.

My mind wandered as I flipped through the griffon book. My ring caught the light and sparkled brilliantly, and got me thinking about my wedding. Which was sort of surreal – how did one even plan a wedding in Thedas? _We haven't discussed dates, and I assume we'll wait until after the Blight, but perhaps Alistair wants to do it sooner?_ I daydreamed for a little while, about a time when the darkspawn were quiescent, and Alistair and I could live quietly, with our friends and whatever new Wardens we could acquire, just being normal for a brief time.

_Who am I kidding? We'd get bored in a minute_. Still, the concept held a certain appeal, to be sure.

As I sat not really reading, I heard raised voices, but couldn't make them out until they were right outside the library door.

"...trying to protect you, 'Lona," Anders was saying.

"Protect me? I fail to see how this story has anything to do with me." Solona was in tears, I could tell, and my heart ached. They came through the library door, but hidden as I was in the alcove and dwarfed by the chaise, they didn't notice me. I debated – _should I stand up, announce my presence, and try to sneak away unobtrusively?_ I didn't want to – the two were finally talking, after Maker-knew how long, and I wasn't about to interrupt. I decided to slump down even further and breathe very, very quietly. _If I get caught, I'll pretend to be sleeping._

"Danielle would have done anything to protect me. It was the same for me with you. Do you really think the templars would have hesitated to use you to get to me? They'd have threatened you, maybe thrown you in solitary, maybe tortured you...do you really think they'd have hesitated to make you Tranquil if they thought it would get me to cooperate?"

His voice wavered. "I wanted to find a way for both of us to get out of there, Solona. But I couldn't do that without escaping. And if the templars knew how I felt about you, they'd have used you to trap me. I'd have been made Tranquil, and maybe so would you, or maybe you'd just be trapped still. But I was too selfish to stay away from you...so my only alternative was to make them think you were just a casual fling. Like everyone else."

"I was just a casual fling to you, Anders, don't you see? If you loved me at all, you'd have told me what you were up to, and we could have found a way. Together. But it was always just about you, wasn't it? You wanted out, you wanted me, you wanted free reign to have sex with whoever caught your fancy...I heard the stories, you know, from the other girls. Even some of the boys. About Anders and his marvellous technique, or his magic tongue. You left a string of broken hearts behind you every time you escaped, and mine was only one of many."

"Solona, I-"

"Just stop, Anders. Stop. I can accept that you thought you loved me. All that means to me is that you don't know what love is. And I don't know what's worse."

I heard rustling, as though someone had stood in a rush, but then a grunt, and…kissing?

"I love you Solona. I made mistakes, made the wrong choices…I won't walk away now. I don't know how to make you believe, but maybe this will show you."

I rolled my eyes. _Leave it to Anders to try to fix his mistakes with kissing._

And then I realised it seemed to be working. There was more kissing, and a soft moan, followed by a thud and an oath. When I heard a voice next, it was clear that it came from someone laying on the low coffee table in the middle of the room.

"This isn't me forgiving you." Solona sounded amused, but still angry. An odd combination.

"I know. And I don't expect you to. I just want to remind you how I can make you feel."

"Sex was never the problem we had, Anders." She sounded more angry, but broke off with a ragged gasp. I heard some more rustling, and the sound of wooden table legs protesting their mistreatment, and then Solona's robe came flying carelessly over to land on the floor near my feet. I jumped, but managed to stifle my startled squeak and stay quiet.

I felt magic flare – Anders, by the feel – and suddenly Solona was panting and moaning continuously. I risked a peek over the top of the chaise to see Solona reclining, naked, on the table, spread-eagled, while Anders knelt on the floor, leaning over her. His hands roamed her perfect, pale skin, stopping to tweak a nipple periodically; sparks shot out from his hands to run along her skin, covering her with brilliant, flashing spots of white light that looked like tiny jewels embedded in her skin. She gasped and writhed as his fingers meandered from her shoulders to her knees, skipping only over her core as the sparks followed in trails behind his hands.

_I should have known that if sex magic was real, Anders would be the one to have figured it out._

"You're so beautiful, my darling Solona," Anders murmured, and I was forced to agree. Slightly more rounded than I, her figure was curvy in all the right ways, her skin alabaster and flawless except for a light smattering of freckles over her chest and shoulders. Her nipples were rosy and jutting up proudly, her hands with long, beautiful nails clenched at her sides, her perfect toes curled as the magic stimulated her, and I was suddenly, surprisingly green with envy.

Solona arched her back, gasping, lifting her legs up onto the table, spread wide, opening herself to Anders' gaze. She whispered, "Just shut up, Anders. Better yet, I can think of a much more appropriate use for that mouth of yours." She reached out and ran her fingers through the blond mage's hair, loosing it from the leather thong it was tied back with, and then pulled his face towards her slit. He licked his lips, not at all reluctant, and I ducked back down as she squealed.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was blatantly watching two of my friends making love, and instead of being disgusted or embarrassed, or even worried about how this would play out for them, I was horrendously aroused. Though my intentions had been good, I should have been mortified at what I was witnessing, but all I could do was rub my thighs together, wanting some sort of stimulation but too afraid to move lest I be caught in my unintentional voyeurism.

From the sounds I couldn't block out, Anders was humming with enjoyment as he performed cunnilingus, and Solona's gasps and cries of encouragement indicated he was good at it as well. I listened, tormented with arousal, as he teased her over and over, bringing her close to her peak – based on the heavy breathing and string of chanted curse words – again and again without allowing her the release she so clearly wanted. I began chanting in time, internally, wishing for it to be over so I could escape, though I wasn't sure whether I wanted to just get away, or get enough privacy to soothe the burning ache in my core.

Solona finally orgasmed, her cries muffled by her hand, and she panted and shuddered through aftershocks as Anders noisily suckled on her flesh and then slowly withdrew, allowing her to settle. She uttered a shaky laugh and the table groaned again as I assume she stood. "You certainly haven't lost any skills," she giggled, and Anders snorted in amusement.

A slender hand came into view and grabbed her robes; I uttered a – strictly internal – sigh of relief that she didn't look behind her as she retrieved the garment. I heard more rustling as she got dressed.

Anders finally spoke. "Solona, I-"

He stopped, and I figured she must have gestured. "Don't make this out to be more than it was, Anders. Nothing has changed. I'm sorry I let this get out of hand – it was a mistake. I can't…" I heard her voice crack, and then she regained control. "It was just sex. I hope you got some enjoyment out of it as well."

Her voice sounded further away as she continued. "Goodnight, Anders."

And then she was gone, and shortly thereafter I was alone in the library, and desperately, desperately in need of Alistair.

I took a moment to compose myself, and then headed down to find out where my fiancé had gotten to. I found him playing cards with Faren, Leli, Aedan, and Zev in the main hall, and losing. Not badly, he still had a pile of coins beside him, but it was much smaller than Aedan's and a little smaller than everyone else's. I pulled over a bench to sit beside him, and he looked over, still distracted by his hand.

"Hey, Love. You here to help me stop losing at cards?"

"Not precisely, no."

He looked at me more carefully, and frowned thoughtfully. "Are you alright?"

I licked my lips, antsy but not wanting my agitation to show. "Yup. Don't let me interrupt you."

He stared at me for a few more seconds, and I watched as his gaze travelled across my face before settling on my eyes. I must have looked strange, or something, because his eyes darkened, and without a word he dropped his cards on the table. "I fold."

There was good natured grumbling at that pronouncement, which he ignored to climb off the bench he was sitting on, offer me a hand, and escort me towards our room. It took all of my willpower not to run.

"You didn't have to stop on my account."

"I was just wasting time waiting for you, anyway. And you looked like…you sure nothing's wrong?"

We reached our room as he asked, and I avoided answering until he'd kicked the door shut behind him. And then I was on him, slamming him against the door, up on my tiptoes, arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. His arms wrapped around me reflexively, and I moaned my approval as he held me close. I explored his mouth with my tongue, teasing and stroking his own, nipping his lower lip with my teeth.

He broke away with a gasp. "What in the world has come over you?"

I didn't bother answering, capturing his lips again. With one hand I began undoing laces on my dress, and I stopped only briefly to toss it off over my head before kissing him again. I attacked his clothes next, getting my hands on his torso and stroking his warm skin before pulling the shirt over his head, then going for the laces on his trousers.

He was hard and ready for me, when I snaked my hand inside to grasp him; he may have been confused, but his body was more than willing. He groaned as I pumped him slowly, teasing him, then whined as I let go to wrap my arms around his neck again. I hitched my knee up by his hip, and he took the hint; he reached down and lifted me, holding me to him as I wrapped my legs around his waist. His hands gripped my panty-clad ass, which served to inflame me more as his bulge pressed against my mound. He stumbled over towards the bed and dropped me on it; I shucked my panties and slid up onto the pillows while he divested himself of trousers and smalls both. He climbed onto the bed and crawled towards me, and I reached up to run my hands through his soft sandy hair.

I was never comfortable with dirty talk, as much as Zevran claimed it was part of the enjoyment of sex; it was awkward and I felt like an idiot when I tried. Which meant that I didn't really know how to ask for what I wanted, even though I definitely knew what it was I wanted. I tugged his hair and whispered, "Please."

He leaned over to press a kiss to my belly, drawing a gasp. "Please what, Love?" His expression was mischievous, telling me he knew exactly what I wanted, but he was going to make me say it.

I pulled his hair again, guiding his head down towards my aching centre. "Please, Alistair." When he just looked at me, blinking slowly, I sighed. "Please, lick me."

He touched his tongue to the spot he'd just kissed. It was soft, but the texture of his tongue was rough, and it made my heart speed up even more. _So close…_

"Like that?" His grin was evil, full of delight at my discomfort and neediness.

I growled. _Fine, I can play his little game._ "Lick my cunt," I demanded, "right now!" And I couldn't think of it as anything else, in that moment; normally I hated the 'C' word, but it was the only one that felt like it accurately portrayed the deep need inside right then.

His eyes went almost black, his pupils blown, and he took a shaky breath. _Maybe Zevran was right?_ "My pleasure," he answered, drawing out the last syllable in the word pleasure, rolling the r and dragging a moan of pure animalistic need from my throat. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

And then I watched as he settled himself on his belly, my feet over his shoulders, and slowly, ever so slowly descended to lap at my drenched folds. "Someone's eager," he commented, licking his lips in apparent satisfaction, and I bucked my hips, trying to get more – more contact, more tongue, more relief from the raging desire coursing through me. "All right, settle down…"

He licked me softly again, then used his fingers to spread me open and ran his tongue from my opening to my throbbing clit. I hissed out a "Yes!" and clenched my hand in his hair, tugging it, pulling him closer. He licked again, swirling around my clit, and then delved his tongue deep inside me, over and over again, driving my breath from my lungs and leaving me lightheaded with pure ecstasy. His nose pressed against my pearl, his breath puffing against my sensitive tissues, and I shrieked and thrashed under his ministrations. He grabbed my hips with both hands, holding me down.

Images kept flooding my mind: Solona, ethereal beauty on display as she arched into Anders' touch; Alistair, clothes askew and hair tousled, smiling at me with lust in his eyes; Alistair again, but in a tuxedo, and wearing my ring. My orgasm overtook me and I rode it, unaware of anything around me as white-hot fire raced through my veins.

Alistair climbed up beside me as I came down from my peak, holding me and stroking my skin softly, murmuring words of love as I shuddered through aftershocks. Finally he relaxed onto his back, with me curled up against his side, boneless.

"So are you going to tell me what that was about?"

I opened my mouth to decline, but changed my mind. As embarrassing as it was, I didn't want any secrets between us. And honestly, it really was hilarious.

"I saw Anders and Solona," I mumbled.

"What? Saw them? What does that have to do with anything?"

I flushed. "I saw them…you know." His eyes widened with realisation and shock. "It wasn't on purpose! I was reading in the library, and they didn't see me sitting there…and then I wasn't about to interrupt once they'd started!"

He chuckled. "So all this was because you saw Anders naked?" His expression was amused, to my surprise; I'd expected anger, or maybe jealousy.

"Maker no! He was fully dressed. She was naked, and he…and it just made me, well, need you. Immediately."

He laughed then, a full belly laugh. "You know, when Zevran said that at brothels like the Pearl you can actually pay others to have sex while you watch as a form of foreplay, I thought he was joking. But if it gets these sort of results, I guess maybe he was right."

"You're not upset?"

"Why would I be upset? Unless you plan to leave me like this…" He gestured down at himself, and I glanced down to see his impressive erection standing straight up, bobbing with his heartbeat.

"Me? Never." I leaned up to kiss him, and then swung my leg over, straddling his hips. I sank down on him in one swift move, hissing in pleasure at being filled, and proceeded to ride him until he came, triggering my own orgasm and leaving me collapsed against his chest, exhausted.

* * *

A/N:

Alright so I'm sitting just under 1200 reviews for this story. Amazing! I am so humbled and thrilled about all the attention this story has received! Now, to keep the urge to review high, I will have a contest for when I reach 1500 reviews. I keep track of all reviewers (except the anonymous ones, for obvious reasons), so your chances of winning are weighted by the number of reviews you've submitted since the start of this story.

I have not entirely decided what the prize will be, but I'll think of something! So please, please keep the reviews coming. They mean the world to me!

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. A million thanks to my fabulous betas, Kira Tamarion and Melysande.

Reviews:

Danariel (Guest): I did forget to mention Wynne! I'll have to update that. Knowing she wouldn't be going into the Deep Roads anyway because of the risk of being turned into a broodmother, Wynne stayed in Redcliffe to help tutor Connor, and to work with a group of mages who were gathering there, trying to find a way to bring down a dragon so the Grey Wardens could kill it.

5 Coloured Walker: I might be able to be convinced to do a summary at the end - and maybe even one in between, depending on how long this drags out ;)

SadnessAndSorrow: Yeah, Alistair not being King and Sierra not being Queen is a definite good thing. Especially if Cailan can grow up a little and not be such a schmuck...

Ioialoha: Thanks! I keep adding to my plans for this - I still have Awakenings, and then DA2, The graphic novels, Inquisition...they won't be as detailed, as the Wardens aren't the centre of all those stories, but I keep thinking of things that will happen down the road. Craziness...

Judy (Guest): Thanks! :)

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Well he had to do something to redeem himself, right? :) Although in his defense, he planned this before the left for the Deep Roads, so Leliana could help him with the details...

AgapeErosPhilia: I'd go with suggested, not coerced :) Glad it was useful - it was sort of nice to write, actually, as a reminder of where they'd been and what all had happened!

eriaaile: Big summary. Crazy! As for the hospital...would I do that? *whistles innocently*

Dforce76: I'd forgotten some of those details too, to be honest! I hope you do enjoy the landsmeet! I have some fun plans... ;)

Flower248: Yeah, Sierra was astonished. It made sense to me - he's insecure, and afraid she'll disappear or change her mind...and yeah, mixing up the fluff and the action is good, when you can pull it off :) So glad you''re still enjoying it!

InsidiousAgent: Sierra was also surprised by the timing, but it made sense to me. If I was in that situation, knowing the one I loved could die any time, I'd want to get married too, honestly...Yeah, poor Sereda. Not everyone gets the fairy tale, you know? She's a survivor, though. She'll figure it out. You're absolutely right about him thinking about being half-elven - he does, and has, but Sierra wasn't there for the conversations with Duncan and whatnot. Maybe I'll have to do a side story about that! It will come up down the road - a long way down - mostly because Alistair feels weird about bringing it up, and it doesn't even occur to Sierra to be a problem, because she doesn't discriminate against elves. It doesn't change how she feels at all...so someone else will have to bring it up ;)

Tatharien: I've put toast in the fridge, and keys...but never a whole toaster. That's talent! It seems I like to balance out too much happy fluff with some unhappy fluff. Is that a thing? Unhappy fluff? You know what I mean :) But it'd be a tad unrealistic if everyone got a happy ending, right?

thinkdragonage: I admit, I enjoy steamy chapters - both writing and reading them! I just couldn't make everyone's endings quite so happy, you know? Too unrealistic. But yes, Alistair is definitely approving of the happy endings... Who can blame him? :)

Vergil1989 the Crossover King: Welcome back! As much as I notice and worry when reviewers go silent, I do love getting multiple reviews all at once. Lovely! Thanks :) So glad to hear you're writing DA again! Yeah, Duncan's got issues. It sucks, and everyone is freaked out, none less than Sierra, who had barely been able to squash bugs before going to Thedas...Branka's not my favourite either, you may have guessed. Nutjob! And that's exactly Sierra's worry about the Anvil too. Luckily, Sereda's not an idealist...I think Branka fell for her own 'divinity', honestly. Oghren seeing her as the same person as before being a Paragon just pissed her off...I'm so glad sparing Caridin was such a popular choice! I was worried people would be bothered by it. Bhelen's a tad ruthless for my taste, but it's a bit to be expected given his upbringing, really. There are not unlikely to be assassination attempts on Sereda, but she's not new to Dwarven Politics, and she's a survivor. So far even the skeptics are okay with the marriage proposal, I'm so relieved! :)


	16. Chapter 92: Changing Plans

Chapter Ninety-Two: *Changing Plans

"Eamon's going to try to convince Alistair to break things off with you," _I knew it, I just knew it…_ "and try to convince you to marry me."

"That's just so typical – I hate his elitist sh….wait, what?"

He shushed me again. "He wants me to put aside Anora – you know that, and honestly, he may be right – and he thinks that if we can garner proof of you being the 'lost Cousland', I will gain support in the Landsmeet if I marry you, especially after what Rendon Howe did to your parents."

"What makes him-" My face was red, my voice increasing in volume and pitch, and Theron covered my mouth again. I lowered my voice and started again. "What makes him think I would agree to such a thing? I'd be a terrible Queen! I don't know anything about Fereldan politics, and no one in the Landsmeet knows me from Adam. Why…?"

"Blood matters, to him, Sierra." He sighed. "And it honestly wouldn't occur to him that you'd have any say in the matter. Usually marriage alliances are negotiated with the family. You think Anora or I had a choice? He thinks he just has to convince Alistair to step aside, and then make a deal with Aedan or Fergus. What you want would never be an impediment, in his mind. As for your abilities – it wouldn't matter. If he was responsible for finding Ferelden a new Queen, he'd have a lot of power in the Landsmeet. He wouldn't expect you to be involved in the politics – he thinks you and I would be off somewhere acting clueless, leaving him to run the country."

I barked out a laugh. "He's in for a nasty surprise, then. Alistair isn't going to step aside_." He wouldn't, would he? No. He wouldn't._ "And I won't agree to the marriage. Neither would Aedan. I don't know what Fergus would think, but it doesn't matter."

I looked at Theron's face, arranged in a carefully neutral, mask-like expression. "It's not about you, Cailan." I hadn't called him Cailan since Lothering – it felt weird, but it seemed important to making my point. "I'm in love with Alistair, and he loves me. And I would truly be a terrible Queen. What Ferelden needs right now is not another puppet monarch, only with Eamon running the show instead of Loghain. Ferelden needs its King strong, and you need, eventually, to find someone who will help you, not push you aside or be incompetent beside you. You need a Queen, a real one, and that's not me."

"Just so you know, I don't agree with you about your competence. Not at all." He raised his hand to forestall my interruption. "But I know it's not what you want, and I would never get in the middle between you and Alistair. He's suffered enough from being disregarded by Theirin men."

I smiled softly. "Thank you, Cailan. _Theron_." I shook my head. "I hope you find what you're looking for, one day. Just don't marry Celene, or I'll kill you myself, even if it means Alistair becomes the King."

He laughed, briefly, and then his face fell. "Let's worry about what I'm going to do about Anora, first, before we plan my wedding to anyone?"

I winced. "Can I ask? You can tell me to screw off, but…do you love her?"

He considered, which was really enough of an answer in itself. If someone asked me that about Alistair, I wouldn't have to hesitate. "I…do, I suppose, but…it's not romantic. I care for her, but I'm not in love with her, if that makes sense."

"It does. Hard to be married to someone in that situation."

"She feels much the same, which is why we managed to put up with each other, I suppose. She was rather better at the whole 'running a country' thing."

"If that was true, why is Loghain her regent? Why would she need a regent at all?"

He looked at me, eyebrows raised. "That's…a very good point. A question I intend to ask her, when we get there."

"I get the impression Eamon's reasoning about you needing an heir is really just an excuse to oust Anora and get more power for himself."

"Definitely, though I'm guessing that's not the question you really want to ask." He smiled sadly, but not defensively.

"Well, the heir thing…I mean, I hate to ask this, and you'll probably have my head chopped off or something, but…are you sure, totally sure, that the issue lies with her?" I grimaced as the question popped out, seemingly without permission.

He sighed. "I am."

"I…oh. You sound rather sure about that. Do you…?"

He looked away. "Before I married Anora, there was someone. She would never have been able to be queen, and anyway Anora and I were betrothed at birth, so I wouldn't have had the choice even if Seinille wasn't an elf. She was beautiful, and kind, and smart, and funny…she worked in the Palace, and, I suppose 'things led to things'. We had a daughter, Mara. You'd never have had to ask if she was mine – damn Theirin nose. I loved her more than anything I could ever have imagined. I provided for her, but I couldn't claim her as mine with an elven servant for a mother. When Father found out, he was so angry…but he didn't come down as hard on me as I expected, which makes sense in retrospect. Despite his anger, he doted on Mara. Now I know he was probably looking for something of Alistair in her little face."

"Where is she now?"

He looked away. "Gone. There was a plague in the Alienage when she was two. I tried to get to them, I tried so hard…but Father wouldn't open the gates. Wouldn't let me send for her. Said there'd be too much suspicion if we broke quarantine. I hired a smuggler to take in supplies – poultices, herbs, food…but I know Seinille. She shared them with her neighbours. Nursed the sickest ones when no one else would. She used the last of the supplies on Mara when she got sick, but it wasn't enough. They both died."

"Oh, Theron, I'm so…I'm so sorry." _I'm such a bitch for bringing up this trauma. _ "It wasn't your fault. I can't even imagine…"

"No," he replied tiredly. "You can't. And I hope you never can. A year later Father died, and a few months after that Anora and I married. I tried to put it behind me. I wanted to be a good husband, but I wasn't ready. I couldn't cope with losing them all, and I withdrew totally. By the time I saw that, saw what was happening…Anora and I had drifted even further apart, and I'd abandoned my duties so long that I was just in the way when I came back. So I just left her to it. And every month, when we hadn't conceived, Anora would be so sad…she didn't want my comfort, so after a while I stopped offering. Played at being a hero, a warrior, and left her."

I considered his sad face for a moment before reaching up – he was almost as tall as Alistair, I noted – and pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry." It was all I had to offer, but I got the impression no one else had known, or if they had, none had offered any comfort at all.

He stiffened for a moment before hugging me back tightly, but just briefly. He turned away, composing himself, and when he turned back, his mask was back in place, jocular expression belying any emotion. _He's a better actor than I gave him credit for._

"We had better be moving if we don't wish to be caught in here."

After peeking out the door of the closet, he offered me his arm again and ushered me out, walking me the rest of the way to my door. "Goodnight, my Lady." He kissed my hand, and I rolled my eyes when he winked at me. I went into my room, closing the door softly behind me, taking a big breath.

My things had been delivered to the room, and I changed into my usual linen sleepwear. A servant came by and asked if I'd like a bath; I declined, but did accept the offer of having food brought up.

"For two?" I requested, and she nodded quietly; I was grateful she didn't ask more questions than that. _I'm sure most of the servants know anyway – seems to be how things work in this world._ I wasn't sure that Alistair would risk coming to my room after his talk with Eamon, but I hoped he'd find a way. After my conversation with his brother and his with Eamon, I needed to be with him.

I picked at some food, read a little from a book I'd found in my room on Fereldan history, and finally dozed in the chair in front of the fire, still hoping. It was late when I was disturbed by a soft knock on my door. I stretched my neck as I crossed the room; I'd gotten a kink from sleeping sitting up. I opened the door to see Alistair looking haggard. I stepped back and he followed me inside, closing the door behind him.

He held out his arms to me, and I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding as I fell into them. "Are you okay?" I asked.

I felt more than heard him nod. "Fine. Just tired."

"Theron told me what Eamon wanted."

He stiffened, and I stepped back slightly to be able to see his face. His hands tightened on my arms. "He did, did he?"

"Yes. He doesn't agree, Alistair. He wasn't trying to convince me. He was warning me."

He relaxed and pulled me to him again. "I told Eamon no."

"I know." I pressed my face into his chest, squeezing my arms around his waist.

"You didn't doubt me?" He looked down at me with a skeptical grin.

"No. Well, maybe for a moment. Like, a tenth of a second. And then I remembered it's you."

His smile was brilliant as he leaned down to claim my lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low growl in my ear when he pulled away, leaning down to nip and suck at the skin on my neck. "Mine."

I moaned, arousal shooting straight through to my core as he pulled me even closer so I could feel him, already hard and ready, between us. "Yes. Yours."

He kissed me again, backing me against the wall, lifting me so my legs wrapped around his waist. He fumbled with my nightgown, finally managing to lift it up and off. "Mine."

I gasped as he ground his hips against me, the rough fabric of his trousers rubbing me intimately. I started fighting with the buttons on his shirt, biting his bottom lip until he hissed and rolled against me again. "Yours. I swear."

I finally got the shirt off him, scratching my nails down the smooth plane of his muscular chest. He was panting as he fumbled with the laces on his trousers, and then I finally felt the heat of him pressing up against my wet folds. He adjusted his grip on my hips and thrust, and then he was in me, filling me, stretching me delightfully, and I let out a long, ragged moan.

"Mine," he growled, then pulled back and thrust again, sheathing himself even deeper. "Mine."

He'd never been this possessive, never been this aggressive, and I should have been afraid or uncomfortable, but I wasn't. I loved it – the discomfort of his fingers digging into my hips, the smoothness of his skin against mine, the delicious sensation of fulfillment when he was inside me. I wanted him to own me, my body, just for that moment, the way he'd owned my heart since Lothering.

"Yours, yes, please Alistair…" I was babbling, alternating declaring my love for him and begging him for the release he was driving me towards. His steady pace and smooth thrusts took me higher and higher as his teeth sank into my skin, marking me, and I couldn't quite get there, despite reaching hard for my climax.

"Mine!" he roared, driving into me, and his erratic thrusts as he spilled himself finally sent me over, squealing his name and writhing in his grasp as my orgasm made my vision grey out and the room spin.

Seemingly without difficulty, he finally turned and laid me down on the bed, shucked his trousers, which had puddled around his ankles, then climbed up behind me to spoon my naked, sweaty form to him. I was so tired I could barely open my eyes.

"S'food over there," I gestured towards my little table, "if you're hungry."

"Thanks, but I'm not getting out of this bed until my legs stop shaking."

I grinned, falling asleep mid-chuckle.

I woke as the sun rose in the morning; shutters just aren't as nice as blinds for blocking the light, and I squinted as a shaft of early morning sunlight fell across my face. I was curled on my side, head on Alistair's shoulder, and when I looked up, I caught him looking down at me with a soft smile.

"'Cause that's not creepy." I grinned, and he chuckled.

"What can I say? You're gorgeous, and you look so peaceful when you sleep."

"You're forgiven." I turned my head, pressing my lips to his shoulder. "Oh, ugh. We reek."

"Yeah well, I figured we could have a shower later. I, um…" he flushed, and ran his hand nervously through his hair.

I tried not to smile at the adorable habit. "Yes?"

"I, well, I just wanted to say…."

I raised my eyebrows, and he cleared his throat, blush deepening.

"I wanted to say that, all evidence to the contrary, I don't actually think I own you."

I hesitated a moment, waiting for the punchline of the joke, and then burst out laughing when I saw he was serious.

"Really? That's what you were worried about?"

"Well, last night I was rather…" he trailed off, looking lost.

"Possessive?" I offered, and he grimaced and nodded. I giggled. "It's okay. I certainly enjoyed being _possessed_."

He huffed out a laugh. "I'm trying to apologise, here. I just…I didn't think you'd go along with Eamon's plan or anything, but just the thought of you with someone else…"

"I know. I almost wrestled Isabela, remember? A little jealousy every now and then is actually quite sexy, as long as you don't take it too seriously." I stretched, enjoying the slight stiffness in my hips. "And I do like Commanding Alistair. He's delicious."

He traced his finger across my cheek then down to my neck, blushing again. "There's good news, though."

"Oh?"

"Apparently I've gotten over the fear of being too rough with you."

I realised he was stroking the skin where he'd bitten my neck; it must have left a hell of a bruise. I giggled, and he laughed with me. He kissed me gently, then went to get up.

"Shall I grab you a potion?"

"Nah. Leave it. I'm going to enjoy seeing Eamon's face when he notices."

At that, Alistair really did laugh. I snuggled into his chest, enjoying having a quiet moment alone with my intended.

"Can I ask you something?"

His expression was oddly diffident, and I looked up at him, suddenly concerned. "Anything."

"Does my…background bother you?"

"Your background?" I was confused. "You mean the whole 'son of Maric' thing? Not really. It isn't going to matter for us. Cailan's alive, so you will stay a Grey Warden, and I can just be your wife. Why would I care about that?"

"And you'd be happy as the wife of someone who's just a Grey Warden?"

I kissed him briefly. "Ecstatically. I'm not some pampered noble, remember? As long as I'm with you, I'll be the happiest woman alive."

He flushed slightly. "I'm glad, though when I was asking, I was thinking more about my mother."

I considered what I knew of Fiona, from the books and the few things Duncan had said. "Well, it bothers me on your behalf that she and Maric left you with Eamon, of all people, but…oh! Do you mean the mage thing? That doesn't really bother me much. Our whole templar thing probably means our kids won't be mages, so I won't have to declare war on the Chantry, so…no, it doesn't worry me."

His expression didn't relax, and I wondered what I was missing.

"I meant more her…physical characteristics."

"I don't even know what she looks like, Alistair. I'm sure they described her in the book, but I don't remember."

"What about her ears?" He looked frustrated now, and I was even more convinced I was missing something.

"Is there something odd about her ears? Maybe I wasn't around for that conversation."

He growled slightly. "They're pointy, Sierra."

"Of course they're pointy! She's an elf!"

Alistair face-palmed, and then started laughing. "I can't believe you're so oblivious. I know she's an elf – I'm trying to ask if that bothers you! I'm elf-blooded. Eamon thinks it's an insult to your family name to allow you to marry an elf-blooded bastard."

_Oh!_ "Eamon's an asshole; I don't give a nug's ass what he thinks, honestly. I don't discriminate against elves, honey. It wouldn't matter to me if you were fully elven. Where I come from, people only know about elves in books and things, and they're always described as beautiful and wise and much, much better than humans. I don't care about the shape of your ears. I love you, and if you were just like you are, only elven, I wouldn't love you any less, and I'd still want to marry you."

"If people find out…they'll look down on you. On our children."

"I'd like to see them try!" I sat up, turning to Alistair, expression fierce. "I've been thinking, actually, about what I'd like to do with myself after the Blight, and I think I'd like to find some way to help improve things for elves and mages here. No one should be discriminated against the way they are; it's disgusting! Anyone who said a single thing about my husband or my children had better run far, far away before I catch them."

Alistair sat up and pulled my into his lap, cuddling me against his chest. "Okay, okay, I get it. I won't ask again. I just…wanted to be sure. I worried about what being elf-blooded meant for me, but sort of…forgot about it, with everything else happening. It didn't even occur to me that it would affect you too until Eamon brought it up as an argument against us staying together. I just had to check."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily." I grinned up at him and kissed his chin. "Mine."

He pressed his forehead against mine briefly, before throwing me back on the bed and climbing over me, expression wicked. "Allow me to demonstrate my relief, my Lady."

Much later, when we were finally dressed, we wandered together into the main hall, joining the others for breakfast. I was accosted by Blake along the way, who barrelled into me, wrapping his skinny arms around my waist in an enthusiastic hug. He'd probably grown three inches since I'd left, and his gaunt face was starting to fill in. He looked happy and healthy. I hugged him back, and promised to meet up with him later to catch up. He hurried off, smiling and waving as he skipped around the corner. I grinned; clearly, Theron had taken good care of the little scamp.

Eamon didn't even try to hide his scowl when Alistair and I walked in together; Teagan looked relieved, and Theron mostly amused when he noticed the hickey on my neck. Aedan's look was disgusted, and Zevran's appraising; I almost had to leave again, hiding my giggle was so difficult. Alistair's attitude seemed to be nine parts pride mixed with one part anxiety as he looked at my brother.

As we sat down, Eamon got up and excused himself with a pissy growl, and Alistair, Theron, Teagan, Aedan, and I cracked up laughing as soon as he and Isolde were gone, much to everyone else's confusion. Leli looked at me expectantly, but I couldn't even speak, I was giggling too hard.

Aedan took pity on her. "Arl Eamon approached me last night wishing to negotiate a marriage contract between Sierra and Cai- Theron."

Everyone who hadn't been laughing looked between Alistair and I, examined the rather noticeable mark on my neck, and cracked up as well.

When the laughter died down, I asked Aedan, "And what, exactly, did you tell him?"

"That I valued my life more than to try and force you into something you're not willing to do." That garnered another round of laughter.

Theron turned to Alistair and me. "I hear that things are even more advanced than I had assumed; Aedan tells me you're engaged?"

I nodded, and was greeted by a smile and a hug from Wynne, and an approving nod from Teagan. Theron leaned back, a mischievous look on his face.

"Well that's easy, then. We can solve this without any trouble. I don't know when you planned to get married, but I would strongly recommend you do it now. Within the next few days, before Eamon has a chance to work any mischief."

My jaw dropped, and I turned to look at Alistair, who was staring at Theron with the same open-mouthed shock. Everyone else started talking all at once, and he let them shout for a moment before he raised his hands.

"I know, I know. But it's honestly the only way to permanently take Sierra out of Eamon's notice. He's not wrong – a marriage alliance with one of the most prominent noble families in Ferelden would garner me support in the Landsmeet, and it won't be long before he's not the only noble suggesting this. The only way to ward that kind of scrutiny off is to have a marriage be impossible. And the best way to ensure that is for the only daughter of the Cousland family to already be wed."

I continued staring at Alistair, who'd turned to look at me as well, face red as a tomato. Everyone seemed to want to be as far away from the uncomfortable scene as possible, and they all excused themselves, until Alistair and I were alone.

He looked around the main hall, not exactly private, and turned back to me. "Ramparts?"

I nodded mutely and took his hand, following him up to our usual haunt overlooking the town from the roof of the castle. He sat with his back to the wall and pulled me into his lap. I breathed a sigh of relief; clearly he wasn't totally freaked out. I snuggled into his chest and pressed my face to his neck.

"So…" He trailed off, clearly unsure where to start.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that, I have to admit. I thought Eamon would be trying to get rid of me to somehow get you to marry some nobleman's daughter and breed Theirins, you know, just in case."

"I admit I had only thought about the ramifications of that little…disagreement you had with him last time we were here. It hadn't occurred to me there might be more problems. I don't totally understand, really, what there would be to gain for him."

"Honestly, I think he figures I'd be out there doing some charity work, and Cailan and I would leave running the country to him."

"I don't think Cailan would do that."

"Me either. Nor would I, were I to agree to becoming a queen. Which I wouldn't."

"Are you sure-"

I punched his shoulder, hard. "If you ask me if I'm sure I don't want to be with Cailan, just remember – I have a dagger, and I know how to use it."

He rubbed his shoulder ruefully, then pulled me in for a soft kiss. "Just checking."

"Well, don't." I stuck my tongue out at him, and he chuckled. "So… When had you thought we would get married, anyway?"

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, reminding me strikingly of Cailan in that moment. "I don't know. I sort of assumed after the Blight ended, but…I mean, what if something happened? Sooner might be better, right?"

"I thought the same. I was going to wait until after whatever fuss Eamon put up before mentioning it, though." I laughed nervously.

"So maybe Cailan is right?" He looked incredulous – whether over the subject matter, or the fact that Cailan could be right about something, I wasn't sure.

"…Maybe?"

"Maker's ass. So, are we really going to do this? Get married right away?"

"I think, maybe, yes?" I winced, still unsure that he was really ready.

He thought about it for a moment, and then suddenly tilted my chin back, grabbing my left hand and fiddling with the engagement ring. "I think I'm doing this wrong. Let me try again.

"Sierra Jones-Cousland, would you do me the honour of marrying me? Perhaps the day after tomorrow?"

I smiled widely and threw my arms around his neck. "Yes. Please."

He kissed me then, and it was sweet and soft and perfect. We sat there for probably an hour, just kissing and snuggling and basking in our own little personal glow. Finally I stood up reluctantly.

"If we're going to do this, I suppose I had better get planning."

"And I think Eamon is probably still going to want to meet with everyone."

"Alistair…can we…would you be upset if we don't have Eamon at the wedding?"

"After this? You kidding? I don't even want him there. But can we invite Teagan?"

"Of course. And Kaitlyn."

"Kaitlyn?"

"Never mind. I need to go talk to Leli. And…do you suppose Duncan would walk me down the aisle?"

"I don't even know what that is, but yes, I imagine he'd do whatever you want. We're going to need to meet with the Revered Mother, too."

"Can we get married in the village? I haven't met her, but I'm going to guess I won't like whoever Isolde chose to be the mother in the chapel here. And I know Revered Mother Hannah."

"Sounds good."

We walked down into the castle hand-in-hand, only to be approached by a servant asking us to meet with Eamon in his office as soon as possible. I slipped away from Alistair to find Leliana first, promising to meet him there right after.

* * *

A/N:

I apologise for this late update; I was away all last week Disney-ing with my five-year-old, and then we had an election in Canada last night and I got a little distracted. I won't say much here about politics here except "Phew!"

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. A million thanks to my fabulous betas, Kira Tamarion and Melysande.

We're at almost 1200 reviews; 300 more and there's going to be another name drawn for a gift of some sort...please, please keep sending me those reviews! I love them all, whether critical or supportive, so thank you all for your interest thus far.

Reviews:

Anjonora: Hee hee. Sorry not sorry! Thanks :)

Inquisitor Hawke (Guest): I see Eamon as thinking that a new wife would distract Cailan entirely while Eamon could swoop in and run the country to his heart's content, and Sierra would be so busy rescuing orphans and kittens that she wouldn't notice...and would have no idea how to run a country anyway, given where she's from. And the entire country needs Cailan to have an heir, and his reign stabilised - which an alliance with the Couslands could give him, so getting him married as soon as possible is critical. And...thanks *blush*

Reploid Avenger: Eamon's a totally self-centred power-hungry leech, honestly, but he is useful in getting to the Landsmeet etc, and I think he does actually care about Ferelden...just with a strong slant to his own importance within it.

tgail73: Teagan is awesome, I'll give you that. And not too hard on the eyes...some day I might have to write that story :) I feel sorry for him, stuck with Eamon the way he is. Poor guy...

Jarjaxle: Well thank you for keeping my head from swelling too large ;) Yeah, poor Alistair isn't happy with Eamon right about now...I'm glad you liked my snow angel scene. I can only imagine the horror of being stuck underground for close to two months...I'd die. I'd probably never stop rolling in the snow when I got out...

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: Anora's actually pretty easy to deal with, if Cailan will just agree...Eamon's been trying to get Cailan to put her aside for a while now to marry Celene, after all. In most medieval-type societies, a woman who failed to conceive within a period of time after marriage could automatically be divorced (and usually forced into either another marriage with an elderly widower or into the cloister as a nun).

5 Coloured Walker: Hee hee I'm enjoying flustering everyone with that little cliffhanger...

Oyshik: Sorry! I can't be held responsible for the cliffhangers. It's not my fault! They just sort of...happen.

Ioialoha: What can I say? Eamon's got evil plans, as always :)

Judy (Guest): You're right. Honestly, this will probably be the last straw for Alistair with Eamon...which should have happened sooner, if only Alistair hadn't been such a whipped puppy in game...

Tatharien: Fan fiction is at least good for wish fulfillment for the author, so yeah...no Bhelen or Harrowmont :) And no one knows Sierra, but her being a Cousland would help Cailan's stability out a lot, if they can convince the Landsmeet to accept her. And Eamon figures he can distract her with rescuing orphans and teaching elves to read or something, while he runs the country...

OnkelJo: I'm so pleased I was able to surprise everyone so much! Hee hee fun.

Caeleinn: Yeah I could make a lot of money on warm water runes, that's for sure. But we know they exist - Maric found some in the Deep Roads in 'The Calling'. I'm going to assume they're limited in supply, otherwise the dwarves would have way more money :)

Jasmine hues (Guest): Eamon thinks he can manipulate her being a Cousland to benefit Cailan, and then the newlyweds will abandon their duties and be only too happy to allow Eamon to run the country. I can't see Eamon as plotting to do something with or without Loghain - too risky, and he's not a dumb man, really - but he's certainly quite capable of opportunism when things like that fall into his lap...

Tobias Morrow: I think Eamon assumes a lot of things about people, based on his own values - like that no one would turn down the throne, if offered, or that no good Fereldan noble would refuse an arranged marriage if it was felt to be 'for the good of Ferelden', for example. He sees Sierra as someone he can manipulate through her bleeding heart, but it would never occur to him that Aedan would refuse or that her opinion on the subject would be important at all. Eamon's a walking contradiction - until you realise he truly expects the world to line up as he desires it just for his benefit. Entitled putz!

jamesers21: Yeah, it is nice to have them with armour befitting their stations. Weapons are less of an issue - Sierra isn't expected to be a heavy hitter, really, so any old dagger would do - and the others have pretty nice weapons already, not that Sierra knows about that. She's not particularly skilled at evaluating weapon value and things, overall. But maybe someone, somewhere along the way, will find her some fancy new daggers...Sierra will eventually get back to Earth, but that's all the details I'm giving you about that ;)

Rixru: I'm strangely proud of using words people don't automatically know. As long as it isn't pretentious ;) I am a bit of a grammar nazi, so...yeah. You're welcome ;) I actually do like Anders, overall. His interactions with Oghren in Awakenings are priceless, you should play it some time. I felt entirely betrayed by him in DA2, but you're right, he hasn't exactly had a healthy, balanced life experience...I wanted to see if I could make him something else, somehow, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it works out in the end...My initial idea in writing this fic was a sort of extended 'what if' game with a friend of mine, and I wanted to see how far I could track the ripples of change...see if I could predict reasonable consequences of changes Sierra might make to the story. I'm glad that has resonated with so many people!

thinkdragonage: Eamon's been trying to get rid of Anora for years, as far as I can tell. In some ways I do feel sorry fr her, but at the same time she can be such a cold-hearted bitch, it might just be karma. I feel super sorry for Gorim - there's just no good ending there for him. I have to say I was shocked and appalled the first time I learned he married someone else when he was in a relationship with my Aeducan...which is why, in this fic, it was a case of him trying to 'do the right thing' for a girl he met who was in trouble, when he had no reason to believe Sereda would ever be found. I'm glad I didn't have to find some way to write it if Sereda had been 'the Warden'. As for Anders...I'm truly hoping he can eventually grow up, the way Cailan and Alistair have had to. We'll see if I can keep it believable ;)

Dforce76: Thanks! The landsmeet is going to be a hoot! *rubs hands together gleefully*

Oyshik: I haven't played trespasser yet. I'm going to have to, before long, if I want to continue this fic into Inquisition...but I have no time. Stress!

Enchantm3nt: Hee hee hee...all I can do is sit here and rub m hands gleefully about the stuff that's coming up. And I'm glad you're still having as much fun as I am with the story so far! Thanks again for the summary...don't spend too much time, seriously :)

Ethizen: Thanks! I'm so chuckling to myself about shocking everyone...


	17. Chapter 94: Marriage Interruptus

This is the original, explicit version of this chapter. For the other version without descriptive sex, see There and Back Again under my profile.

* * *

Chapter Ninety-Four: *Marriage Interruptus

Alistair and I were just about to exchange rings, beautiful golden bands bought in Redcliffe village, of all places, when the main door to the Chantry slammed open with a bang. Startled, I looked over my shoulder to see a very red-faced, angry Arl Eamon storming down the aisle towards us.

In the moment of shock, Alistair took action, using my hand to pull me behind him and straightening up, drawing up his full height. His expression remained neutral, calm, but I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. I looked to Aedan, who stepped up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Alistair. In the pews, the guests had all risen from their seats, faces turned to the furious noble.

"That is enough!" Eamon shouted, pointing at Mother Hannah. "Stop this farce at once."

"Your Grace, this is most irregular-" Mother Hannah began, looking baffled.

Eamon cut her off, pointing at me instead. "You!" He turned to Alistair. "I might have expected something like this from her, but I thought better of you. How dare you be so selfish? I have told you that Ferelden requires-"

"Actually, Uncle, Ferelden will be just fine, thank you. This wedding was my idea. And it's probably the only un-selfless thing Alistair has ever done. I think we can forgive him one thing." Theron walked forward from the crowd, chiselled features pulled down into a wide frown.

"Cai-Theron, my boy, you don't seem to understand…the insult! Allowing the only daughter of Highever to wed a bastard…foregoing an alliance that could ensure the safety of your crown-"

"And that's up to her and her family to decide, now isn't it? As her brother is standing beside her betrothed, I'm not seeing how the family can feel insulted. As for Alistair, he is my brother and I expect you to treat him as such. He is a Prince of Ferelden and my heir, and I will not hear _that word_ applied to him from your lips again, am I clear?"

My eyes went wide, and I looked between Alistair and Aedan; Aedan shrugged noncommittally, but from his profile, Alistair's expression was as dumbfounded as mine must have been. _Since when is Alistair Cailan's heir? And why isn't Aedan surprised?_ Eamon looked, if anything, even more freaked out than Alistair and I. Which seemed ridiculous, given that I knew he'd forget Cailan in a heartbeat if he died, and put Alistair on the throne without a second's pause. _Grasping bastard…_

Eamon opened his mouth and stepped in it even worse. "You would come into my home, and abuse my trust, my hospitality like this-"

"Careful, Uncle. Think hard before you continue that sentence, and perhaps remember who it is that saved your life, as well as who has the ability to take this home away from you. You may be Arl, for now, but you will remember who is King."

Somehow, impossibly, Eamon's face became even more crimson, and he started looking distinctly unwell. He was sweating and breathing shallowly, his hands curled into fists and his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he considered what to say next. I worried briefly that he could be having a heart attack, but saw Wynne and Anders nearby looking unconcerned, so I relaxed.

"Your Majesty," he finally replied, tone cold. "I apologise for overreaching. I shall leave you to your…" he glanced dismissively at Alistair and me, "entertainment." His response was formal enough to pass as polite, though the words were clearly meant derisively. He frowned at Theron and Aedan, shot Alistair and me one more dirty look, and then spun on his heel and marched out of the Chantry, letting the doors slam behind him.

In his wake, everyone looked at each other uncertainly, soft whispers barely heard from the front where I was standing. Alistair reached his hand back towards me, and I grabbed it and clung for dear life. I was so angry at Eamon. _How dare he interrupt my wedding to call my husband a bastard?_ I struggled to contain my anger, to hold back a scream of rage. I swore to myself that if he ever did something to hurt Alistair like that again, I'd kill him myself. Theron appeared to be having similar thoughts.

"You okay?" I asked Alistair, worried he'd be devastated by the vocal disapproval from his first father figure.

"You know what?" He smiled at me and squeezed my hand. "I really am. I'm fine."

His expression matched his words, though how it could be true was beyond me. Not knowing what to say, I just held onto his hand, a couple of tears of total aggravation gliding down my cheek. Alistair wiped them with the thumb of his free hand, smiling encouragement at me. "It's going to be fine. I swear it."

Finally Mother Hannah cleared her throat and clapped her hands, motioning for everyone to have a seat.

"Do you still wish to proceed?" she asked Alistair and me, voice pitched low so as not to carry through the Chantry. Only Leli and Aedan would have been close enough to hear.

We both nodded without hesitation, and so she picked up as well as she could from where we left off. We finished exchanging rings, and I stared down at my hand in awe. I'd never thought I'd see that finger with a gold ring on it. A couple of tears escaped, and Alistair smiled in understanding.

Mother Hannah was talking again, and I struggled to keep up with her, but when she asked me a question, the answer came easily.

"I do." To my surprise, my voice was strong and carried throughout the small Chantry.

When it was his turn, he winked at me, forever cheeky, and replied, "Oh, I definitely do."

A snicker passed through the guests, and then it was done. I heard the Revered Mother mutter something about kissing, and then his lips were finally on mine, his hands cupping my face as I just pressed my palms against the solid bulk of him. The kiss was neither short nor chaste, and my cheeks flushed as a cheerful roar went up among the witnesses when we finally, reluctantly pulled apart. Alistair wasn't even blushing, for once, and I smiled at his unexpected confidence.

He took my hand and we walked out of the Chantry together, me smiling like I'd never stop. Eamon was forgotten, a problem for another day; for today, I had Alistair at my side and a ring on my finger, and nothing else mattered.

That evening we had a small feast for our friends, and there was dancing. Leliana pinned my train up for me, and I took off the veil so I could dance. Leliana sang "A Thousand Years" again for me and Alistair to slow dance to together, and then some musicians she'd recruited from the village launched into more traditional Fereldan songs. I danced with Teagan, Tomas, Theron, Jowan, Aedan, and Zevran, and once each even with Sten, Anders, Faren, Bel, and Oghren – dancing with the dwarves was rather comical, especially when Oghren started making salacious comments about how their height put their heads right at my bosom – but mostly I clung to Alistair. Despite both being terrible dancers, we fit so well together that we didn't step on each other's toes and it felt perfect to be in his arms like that.

Leliana and Solona danced with anyone who asked, including a couple of local men who were having a drink at the tavern when we arrived; Solona even danced once with Anders, which was sweet and sort of painful all at the same time. Morrigan refused to dance, and Wynne begged off as being too tired after one dance with Alistair. Secretly I wondered if he'd stepped on her foot.

Kaitlyn was there, in a pretty silk dress, which was not lost on Teagan, and the two of them spent almost as many dances as Alistair and I clinging together. I winked at both of them individually when I caught their eyes, and they both blushed, but kept on dancing.

At one point, when I was resting, slumped on a bench beside an equally exhausted Alistair, Leliana stopped the music and got everyone's attention.

"I thought this would be a good time for Sierra to showcase a talent that I don't think anyone here knows about, other than me, and I think I know the perfect way to do that."

I raised my eyebrow, confused. _What talent?_ She dragged me up to stand by her, and then explained.

"Sierra has an ability to remember music that rivals my own, and I have no doubt she will be able to manage this. I also think that our darling Alistair should know that his bride can sing."

I blushed. _She couldn't…she did._ The initial strains of a song I knew all too well rang out. It took a bit of adjustment – string instruments just didn't sound like the electronic music I was familiar with, but which song she had chosen was plainly obvious – Serena Ryder's "What I wouldn't do". I grabbed her hand, pulling her to me.

"You had better stay here and sing with me," I growled at her, and she smiled and pulled out a small drum, nodding.

At first, I was quiet, and I'm sure few other than Alistair could hear me at all over Leliana's superior voice. Alistair's surprised look was followed by a pleased smile, and when Aedan and Zevran also grinned appreciatively, I gained confidence that was mirrored by my increasing volume. I couldn't project like Leliana – I'd never had voice training, and could only boast the ability to carry a tune, not wow a crowd – but it was enough, and the song was perfect.

If you should fall to pieces,

You know I'll pick them up.

There are so many reasons

I'm never gonna get enough.

If you should leave this country,

You know I'll come to you,

Because you always love me.

Oh what I wouldn't do.

Oh what I wouldn't do.

I'll carry the weight,

I'll do anything for you.

My bones may break,

But I'll never be untrue.

Oh what I wouldn't do.

Your love is like an ocean,

That always takes me home.

Whispering wind is blowing,

Telling me I'm not alone.

Your love is like a river,

That I am floating down.

I've never been a swimmer,

But I know that I'll never drown.

I know that I'll never drown.

The current grows stronger,

A hundred different shades of blue.

I've fallen in your water,

Forget everything I knew.

Oh what I wouldn't do.

All the things I never noticed,

Opened my ears to the chorus.

You have made me listen careful

And you gave me the line.

I'll carry the weight,

I'll do anything for you.

My bones may break,

But I'll never be untrue.

The current grows stronger,

A hundred different shades of blue.

I've fallen in your water,

Oh what I wouldn't do.

Oh what I wouldn't do.

I was swaying to the beat and smiling by the end, despite my early embarrassment, and Alistair's grin made it worth it. I barely noticed the applause, or the cheering as Alistair lifted me off my feet and kissed me.

We finally settled down to dinner; so many of us being Grey Wardens meant the food was plentiful, and we cleared the table without delay. There was a little bit of the Antivan wine Zevran knew I liked, and a small keg of ale from Maker-knew where, but no one (including Oghren, for a change) was drunk and it was a lovely meal. It was rather hard to eat without letting go of Alistair's hand, but we managed.

After dinner, he stood beside me, and shouted to get everyone's attention.

"First, we would like to thank all of you for being here to celebrate with us. This wouldn't be happening without all of you helping, some more than others," he smiled and nodded his head to a blushing Leliana, "and we wouldn't want to do this without all of you here. Second, we would like to wish you all a good night." He turned to me and smiled. "I am a lucky man. I love you, Sierra."

I stood up and kissed him, to the mixed sounds of cheering and gagging from the crowd.

"I'd like to echo my husband's sentiment about you all being here. I think every girl dreams of her wedding day, and mine was perfect, thanks to you. I'm the lucky one." I smiled up at Alistair, unshed tears pricking in my eyes. "And I love you, Alistair. Forever."

His lips crushed mine, and he leaned down to scoop me up, fancy dress and all. I'd normally have squawked, but I wanted to leave as much as he did, and knew I'd be hampered by the silly train. He leaned me down to plant a kiss on each friend's cheek, and endured much back-slapping, and then we were out of there. We both stayed silent until we reached the rooms that had been prepared for us upstairs in the tavern.

Leliana had struck again; the bed was again covered in rose petals – _where had she found those, in the middle of a Blight?_ – and there were candles lit all around the room, giving off a lovely glow. A fire burned in the hearth, there was a covered tray that I guessed would be food, and a copper tub had been dragged in, with the enchanted rune I had been given in Orzammar sitting nearby, ready to provide hot water on demand.

Alistair sat down on a chair by the fire, settling me in his lap, and I relaxed into his embrace. I sighed; it was nice to relax, not to be watched, even if it had been for a good reason. We sat silently, companionably, just enjoying the fire and the closeness.

After a while I squirmed; the dress Leliana had produced as if by magic that morning was beautiful, but fashion required some sort of sacrifice, and that was comfort. The stitching in the bodice was tight, not even allowing for a breast band underneath, and my skin ached from its tight confinement. The stays were bone of some sort, and dug in to my ribs uncomfortably; the fabric was silk, but in places there was a lot of lace that was abominably itchy.

Seeming to catch on to my discomfort, Alistair began silently unlacing the back of the dress. I grinned, knowing very few Fereldan noblewomen would allow their husbands to perform such a task, instead having a lady's maid to do it. I wondered briefly if he minded, but reasoned that if he did, he'd better get over it. I was no noblewoman, and with the exception of my wedding dress, would not normally need help to get undressed; I wasn't about to keep a lady's maid for such rare occasions. My husband would just have to learn to cope.

_Husband. That's a weird thought._ I glanced at my left hand, where my simple gold band lay next to the beautiful diamond engagement ring Alistair had given me. _I never thought I'd live to see the day._ I smiled wistfully, wondering what I would have thought if a year ago, someone had told me I'd be married, and to a fairy-tale character at that. I'd have laughed, for sure.

By the time the thoughts had tumbled through my brain, Alistair had untied the final lacing, and suddenly the pressure on my ribcage and my breasts released. The dress fell forward slightly, baring the curve of my breasts to the room. He took the opportunity to stroke the skin, ever-so-softly, and I shivered at the touch. Suddenly his arms were around me, his breath warm in my ear.

"Cold, my Lady? I could get you a blanket."

"No thank you, my Prince." I grinned as he huffed and rolled his eyes. By mutual, unspoken consent, we were leaving the topic of his royalty until morning. I turned to face him. "Besides, I can think of better things than a blanket to help me warm up."

I waggled my eyebrows and he grinned before leaning in to capture my lips in a scorching kiss. His hands stroked my neck and shoulder, slowly releasing my upper half from the confines of my dress. When I was finally bare from the waist up, he kissed his way down to my chest, and I moaned as he devoured a nipple, sensitive from a day spent trussed in yards of irritating fabric. He had just a hint of stubble on his chin, and it scraped across my skin as he switched sides, subjecting my other breast to the same treatment.

Impatient, now, I struggled out of his lap, and he had to lift me up so I could stand. He scrambled to his feet, just in time to watch the dress finally fall past my waist, and I wiggled until it pooled at my feet. My underwear, some special useless lacy things Leliana had presented, soon followed. I kicked off the heels, stepped out of the puddle of cloth, and stood before him naked. I was rewarded by a soft groan as his gaze travelled my body; the look he gave me turned me on more than it should, and I popped one hip out to the side as I sauntered past him to the bed, making sure he got a good look at everything.

"You're overdressed, husband." I crawled up on the bed and reclined against the pillows, smiling seductively. _He likes how I look? Might as well give him a show._ "You'd better hurry, or I will start without you."

Stirring from his abject staring, he blushed and tried to rush and undress, but I had already decided to make it more difficult for him. Making sure he was watching, I brought one hand up to my face and slowly, painstaking swirled my tongue around the tip of one finger. Locking my smile in place, hoping like hell I didn't blush, I traced the other fingers down my neck, over my chest, and then with the damp finger, began teasing my own erect nipple, while the other hand held my breast out slightly, as though offering it to him. He groaned and stopped undressing, face slack as he watched my hands. He'd managed to remove the doublet and vest overtop of his formal shirt, but little else, and after a few moments of allowing him to stare, I cleared my throat. Startled, he looked up.

"Better, but not quite there yet, my love."

He flushed and started unbuttoning his shirt, so I went back to tormenting him. I switched breasts, re-wetting my finger and rolling my nipple gently. Seeing his eyes widen with lust as he watched me was intoxicating, and I felt moisture between my thighs. With one hand still on my erect nipple, I allowed the other to explore lower, stroking across my belly to the hairless mound at the apex of my thighs. He seemed dazed, unable to tear his eyes away as my fingers gently massaged my own pubic area. I cleared my throat again, and he jumped and tore the shirt open, buttons popping off and spraying across the room.

I giggled and he blushed before dropping the ruined shirt to the floor. His physique never failed to affect me, and I watched his own skin appear with anticipation. Once the shirt was gone, I could see the prominent bulge in the front of his trousers and I licked my lips. Taking my cue to advance my agenda of driving him mad, I spread my legs, embarrassed but too excited to stop now. I could smell my own arousal, and by his flaring nostrils, so could he. I traced a finger over my lower lips, finding myself soaked; I brought my finger up to my lips and licked at the moisture there. His strangled gasp made me grin wickedly, and I dropped my hand back down, now finally allowing my finger to penetrate into my damp folds. I explored slowly, at first, teasing myself, until I couldn't take it anymore and finally circled around my hard clit gently. I shuddered at the sensation and did it again.

He was panting now, desperately trying to free himself from his trousers, the laces of which of course had become knotted. His frustration and urgency sent a bolt of pleasure through me, and I groaned and dropped my head back onto the pillows as I pleasured myself slowly. I needed more, and reluctantly released my breast to allow my other hand to join the first. Continuing to torment my clit, I slid two fingers through the slippery folds, picking up some moisture before delving them deep inside my sheath. The pressure was divine, making me writhe, but yet left me wanting – it wasn't enough. It wasn't him. My lover, my husband…thinking that word made me cry out softly as I started thrusting my fingers in and out of my channel.

I lifted my head just soon enough to finally see his pants drop to his ankles, and watch him trip in his hurry to shed the offending article of clothing. I watched through a haze as he eventually remembered to kick off his shoes and managed to free himself. His smalls took no time, and suddenly my naked, very aroused husband was crawling onto the bed between my knees. I watched as his face descended and then felt his tongue as it slipped in around my probing fingers, and I relented and withdrew my hands as he took over.

His tongue grazed the edge of my clit a few times before he switched to sucking in one of my inner lips and harassing it with his tongue instead. I gasped and arched my back as I felt two of his much bigger, longer fingers replace mine and curl forward, rubbing all the right places rhythmically with every thrust. I started to shake with desire, and screamed his name as he finally clamped his mouth over my clit and began sucking and flicking it. His other hand, out of nowhere, pinched my nipple, and I came. I flooded his mouth and his hand, thrashing a little but unable to move too far because of the fingers impaling me. He kept at my clit, prolonging my orgasm until I couldn't take it anymore and collapsed back, panting.

He eased his fingers out of me and crawled up, kissing my stomach and then my breast before he reached my head and leaned in to kiss me. I tried to follow him as he pulled away, and I pouted.

"You have been a very bad girl, and now I think it's time for payback."

My eyes widened as he lifted my legs to his shoulders; we'd never tried that position before! I felt the heat of his erection before I felt the pressure, and I wiggled my hips invitingly. He chuckled and shook his head, then proceeded to tease me with just the tip, running it along my length and pressing slightly against my too-sensitive clit. Normally he stayed away from there for a few minutes, at least, after an orgasm, to allow things to recover, but as he rubbed again and again against the little nub, it seemed this time would be different.

I was too aroused for it to truly be painful, but it was definitely uncomfortable and I hissed. He kept at it, then leaned down to suck one of my inflamed nipples into his mouth, something else we usually avoided right after orgasm. To my surprise, despite my discomfort, I could feel the pressure rising in my pelvis which indicated another orgasm was building. He kept at it, ignoring my whining as he teased my opening and harassed clit and nipples both, and I spastically grabbed at the sheets under me. The pressure built, and suddenly the discomfort fled in favour of white-hot pleasure as I was rocked by another climax.

I cried out again, fisting my hands in the sheets as it washed over me, and the next thing I knew Alistair was buried in me to the hilt, pounding into me mercilessly, not letting me relax after my peak. The angle allowed him to go deeper than he had ever before, and I'd never felt so completely filled, so totally owned by another. His hands were bruising my hips as he pulled me to meet his thrusts, and I could tell by his hoarse grunt that he was close. When he shouted and arched his back, feeling him spill inside me triggered another small orgasm that left me breathless. My legs slipped off his shoulders to fall on either side of his hips, my arms leaden at my sides, and I felt weak. I could barely move.

Suddenly I felt something on my abused clit, and I opened my eyes to see he was still on top of me but had snaked a finger down between us to find my poor nub. I groaned and shifted my hips, only to realise that he was still hard, still buried inside my sheath, and pinning me in place. His finger was insistent and aggressive, stroking and teasing my pearl.

"No, not again. I can't." It was barely a whisper; finding my voice required too much effort.

His voice was husky with arousal. "Yes, again. You can. You will."

He kept up, teasing my traitorous body until my clit hardened again. He kept whispering to me, calling me his wife, moaning my name, telling me he loved me, asking me to come for him, and reluctantly, agonisingly, I complied. I began to writhe, clenching his cock tightly inside me, as the pressure built one more time, and he kept encouraging me. He started thrusting into me again, slowly, deeply, and it added to the stress on my over-wrought clit. I began to sob, in pain, in bliss – _I can't even tell which anymore_ – and he kissed my tears away, and I came again. I could feel my aching pelvic muscles clamp down on his length, felt the heat that indicated he'd climaxed as well, felt his breath pant on my skin as he groaned, and I laid, limp like an overcooked noodle.

He finally lifted off of me, shifting to the side to wrap himself around me, pulling up the blankets to cover us. I didn't even move other than to turn my head and press my face into his shoulder. I felt him kiss my forehead, and his fingers intertwined with mine.

"Love? Are you…"

"If you ask me if I'm okay, I will beat you. Tomorrow, anyway – I'm too tired right now."

"I love you, my wife."

"And I you, husband. Now, if you don't mind, could we go to sleep?"

He chuckled, and that warm rumble was the last sound I heard before slipping into unconsciousness.

* * *

A/N:

Hi all! Thanks for the fantastic response to the last chapter. I appreciate every review so much! Please, keep them coming.

I may update next week, if there's enough enthusiasm, since this chapter is mostly devoid of plot, and is pretty much all mushy stuff ;)

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. A million thanks to my fabulous betas, Kira Tamarion and Melysande.

Reviews:

5 Coloured Walker: Me screw up? Unpossible! ;)

Biorr the Old: Don't mock my mushiness! I'll pout. Oooh, I'm ok with dastardly, but without the moustache. I think I'd look terrible with breasts and a moustache ;)

Vergil1989 the Crossover King: Leliana would murder me if I spilled all her secrets. Have you seen her in Inquisition? She's terrifying! Yeah, Eamon's an asshat. I wonder if my cliffhangers are becoming predictable? Hmm...

Caeleinn: Sorry (not sorry!)! It's a great song. Just, you know, cheesy. Which I happen to like, so it's all good :)

Inquisitor Hawke: Leliana had some warning, having been helping Alistair with the whole proposal thing...she had the dress made in Orzammar while everyone was in the Deep Roads. She's prepared like that. Plus, shopping! The boys just went drinking for the stag. STen didn't stick around long when he realised...Fiona from Inquisition, if you read "The Calling", is so out of character for herself it makes me wonder if Alexius used blood magic on her...but yeah, same Fiona. I was a bit shocked, after having read the book, to discover she was the twit who brought the vote to separate the circles from the Chantry. The book made her seem a little more politically savvy...

Ioialoha: I hope Theron's rescue was all you dreamed of ;)

Flower248: Let's be honest, Eamon should forever hold his peace just on principle. I don't actually picture Thedosian weddings having that objection clause - with so many arranged marriages, inviting objections just seems foolhardy ;)

OnkelJo: Hope Theron's smackdown was to your liking, then :)

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: No punching. Leliana would have them all murdered if they brawled during the wedding ;)

tgail73: As much as Eamon falling down a well and never coming back would appeal, it doesn't seem very realistic ;) Don't think I hadn't thought about it, though...

MusicologyMom: No punching! Leliana would kill them all. Seriously. She's scary. Jury duty has always sounded like not very much fun...good luck with that!

Jarjaxle: I'm not sure about if Alistair is a Warden - I played with him as king. She asks nervously about him, but declines to explain why in game, I suspect because she'd destabilise his reign if people found out she was a mage, an elf, and an Orlesian. Why she doesn't talk to Warden Alistair, I'm not sure. Fear, maybe...she did leave him, leading to his being raised by Eamon, after all...

ForgottenGrimiore: I recommend following him out and punching him outside, unless you want an angry Orlesian Bard after you ;)

Jasmine hues (Guest): Fortunately Theron has grown up enough to stop before actual throttling. Threatening, now...that's totally fair game :)

Judy (Guest): Thanks!

espina (Guest): I'm sorry, I still don't speak Spanish! I tried Google Translate, and it wasn't very helpful. I'm sorry!

thinkdragonage: It's...mostly fluff? This one is the rest of the fluff for you :)

Dforce76: Of course I started this with the wedding in mind. What's the point in writing wish fulfillment if you don't get to marry Alistair? ;)

Questara: You know, I often do Eamon last in my playthroughs, just so I don't have to listen to him so much...Unconscious Eamon is far less annoying than awake Eamon.

Tatharien: The first time I ever heard that song was in a Youtube Dragon Age video - someone had done a video of a female Cousland's wedding to Alistair to that song. I loved it, bought it, and only then discovered it came from an annoying movie. I just refuse to acknowledge where it came from, and love it anyway :)

jamesers21: Not 3 weeks. Just 2, promise. And maybe one, this time, if properly motivated ;)

Ethizen: Anvil! Good plan! Where's that darn blacksmith when I need him? :)

Benzyl benzoate (Guest): Welcome! I'm glad you're enjoying :) I know the 90+ chapters is a bit daunting...I've been considering splitting it into multiple stories, but figure having multiple books is probably just as intimidating. Here's to hoping most people aren't scared away...

Oyshik: I tried ME, but I just can't FPS. I'm really, remarkably terrible at it. Even on easy. I played SC a little, but I'm not a big RTS'er either. I really like my RPG. Some day I'll go find a good fic that gives me the basic story behind those games...when I have time, so probably not soon :) Yeah, LOTR would be vastly amusing to show all the DA people. I suspect all the races, except the humans, would be quite satisfied with their portrayal...

InsidiousAgen: Pineapple? You are a sadist! Sounds fun, actually. I also find it fun to vex my readers. It's a great way to get comments! LOL. Yeah, Leli really enjoyed the whole wedding thing. She got to go shopping! Can't go wrong with Leliana and shopping. As for your taste in women...you should find some nice, sweet, kind girl and just snuggle up. Much safer that way, Indie. :)


	18. Chapter 97: Bad Acting

This is the original, unedited, graphic version of this chapter. For the non-explicit version, please see There and Back, under my profile.

* * *

Chapter Ninety-Seven: *Bad Acting

We left a camp with the Dalish and Circle emissaries just south of Denerim; Dariel stayed with them, having barely spoken to any of us since we'd returned from Orzammar. I gathered he was to become Keeper Lanaya's First, and it seemed he'd already found himself a mate, based on the single tent shared between him and Mithra. We arranged runners to come to the gates of Denerim daily at noon, where we could meet with them if we needed to each day.

The rest of the trip to Denerim was uneventful. Before we were visible from the gates, we stopped to pull ourselves together. Theron dismounted, donning an old, dented full helm, and Alistair took his place on the horse, beside Teagan; I wondered if he'd take after his father and fall off, but it didn't happen. Theron walked at his side as a bodyguard. Blake walked with me near the front with the Grey Wardens.

I had decided that Alistair and I should pretend not to be together while in Denerim – I wanted Theron to see the full depth that Anora was willing to sink to in order to keep her throne, and part of that was Alistair seeming to be 'available.' I knew it was a good idea, despite Alistair's misgivings, but turning to wave at him one last time before walking through the gates, I was starting to doubt the wisdom of the idea. We'd been separated by a few hundred feet for less than an hour, and I already missed him. He'd tried changing my mind with puppy eyes; I'd promised to try to sneak into his room later.

The gates into Denerim were actually manned, for a change; Aedan recognised some of the guards as being Kylon's new recruits. They winked at Aedan and let us pass, saluting Teagan and Alistair –those they assumed to be nobility – formally. One of them broke off from the gate to walk beside Aedan, ostensibly 'escorting' us to Eamon's estate. He seemed to be giving Aedan a report of what had been going on; I looked forward to hearing it later.

Gorim took his leave, promising to come to Eamon's estate after checking in on his wife at their little house in the Market District. I rather hoped the reunion would go well and we wouldn't see him for a few days.

Eamon's estate was one of the few buildings that was the same size in real life as it was in the game. There weren't even close to enough bedrooms for everyone, so while Teagan, Aedan, and Alistair got rooms of their own, the rest of the men were put up in the barracks with Eamon's soldiers. The women ended up sharing guest rooms – I shared with Solona, while Leli shared with Wynne. Morrigan preferred to spend her nights as a bird, outside, alone. It amused me to think of Theron in the Barracks, while Alistair slept in a lavish guest room, but surprisingly, Theron appeared to be the less uncomfortable of the two at the arrangement.

Isolde immediately swept off to the room she shared with Eamon, Connor and his entourage following behind; I hoped I'd seen the last of her for a while. Eamon had implied he planned to put them both on a boat to the Free Marches within the week; I'd have thought he was trying to allow Connor to escape, but he'd apparently made a deal with the mage and templar who had been teaching Connor to accompany them.

We weren't greeted by Loghain, Howe, and Cauthrien upon arrival; I learned why later when we met for supper and Aedan told everyone what the guard had reported to him.

"Loghain's holed up in the Palace; no one's so much as seen him in weeks. After we left, there was some rioting, even amongst the nobles; Loghain pulled back to the Palace and Howe to his estate. They didn't have enough men even to hold the noble's district; Leonas Bryland and Alfstanna Eremon have openly declared against Loghain, and nobles are flocking to their banner."

Aedan turned to Eamon. "That should make it easier on us, then. Have you been in contact with either of them?"

"I sent messengers, but have not received responses yet. Not that I expected to – the messengers would have gone to Waking Sea and South Reach first. I told them I was coming to Denerim; I imagine they'd wait to talk here."

Aedan hummed in thought. "Well, from what I hear, neither Loghain nor Howe will be travelling much without a legion of soldiers. We need to talk to Alfstanna and Leonas."

"I expect we will get a different opportunity soon," I reminded everyone. We decided to give it a day or two, and then move forward if nothing presented itself.

I snuck into Alistair's room the first night in the estate; fortunately, my room was right across the hall, and I was able to watch through my own open door until I had an opportunity to get in unseen. Solona laughed at me and pulled our door shut behind me.

I got there before Alistair had managed to untangle himself from Eamon, so I spent a few minutes unpacking his things. A servant had turned his bed down, so when I ran out of things to do, I stripped and climbed into his bed naked, falling asleep almost instantly.

I woke when a cold draft hit me, opening my eyes to see Alistair in nothing but his loose linen pyjama bottoms, staring at my naked form with darkening eyes. He stripped out of the pants frantically, crawling into the bed and pulling the covers up over us both. He kissed me, initially soft and sweet, but quickly deepening. His tongue swept into my mouth aggressively, and I gasped.

"Just what do you think you're doing, serrah?"

He snorted, weaving his fingers into my hair to tilt my head and attack my neck. "Well, since someone obviously bought me such a beautiful gift, I couldn't possibly turn it down…" He nipped my neck, making me squirm.

"Oh you think I'm some sort of possession to be bought, do you?" I gasped again as he nibbled the opposite side of my neck.

"Well, you must be – what else would you be doing in my bed, naked?"

Then his head disappeared under the blanket, and I felt him slide downwards pressing kisses to my neck, then my collarbones, then finally taking a nipple into his warm mouth. I groaned, biting my lip to stifle any noise, pulling him closer and arching into him. I could feel I was already wet and needy, but he took his time, teasing me with his stubble, little sucks and nibbles inflaming my skin, driving me mad.

He was kneeling between my thighs, his leg pressing up against me, and I tried to grind down against him, wanting more stimulation. I could feel his breath ghost across my abdomen as he chuckled and moved his leg away; I whined, stuffing the side of my hand in my mouth – my lip was starting to bleed, and I still needed to avoid the noise I knew I'd be making in a moment.

Not shouting his name when I felt his tongue tease at my lower lips took every ounce of willpower I had; not murdering him when he refused to do more than tantalise was even worse. He lapped at the moisture, not enough pressure to even dip into my slit, and I bucked, unsuccessfully. A few more moments and I reached down, grabbing a handful of short hair and tugging.

I got one merciful swipe of his tongue over my firm little nub, and then he stopped. Just stopped. I almost cried in frustration. He slid back up beside me, stroking my belly in soothing motions while I panted.

"Dare I ask what I'm being punished for?" I asked, voice hoarse with restrained lust.

"For insisting we pretend not to be married. For making us sleep apart."

I opened one eye to glance at him, trying to evaluate the seriousness of his complaint. His expression was a mask that I couldn't read, and I grunted and rolled to face him. "Alistair-"

"Don't you 'Alistair' me." He exaggerated the last syllable of his name like I did, not saying 'Alister' like most Fereldans. "You say it's necessary, but I'm going to lose my mind, having to pretend to be a king, to act like I want this…and now I don't even have you with me."

"You listen to me, husband. It doesn't matter whether I am holding your hand, whether I'm ten feet away or a thousand, I am always with you. Always." I slid on top of him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pressing my face into his neck, desperately trying to assuage my feelings of guilt. "I love you, Alistair Theirin."

He sighed and pulled me closer, the calluses on his hands making me shiver as they stroked my back. "I know. I love you too. I just hate this, after everything…"

I kissed him then, twining my tongue around his, letting him taste the blood on my lower lip. He groaned and squeezed me tighter, one hand sliding down to cup my ass, the other holding my head, massaging my scalp lightly.

"Let me make it up to you," I whispered, spreading my legs to straddle his hips, sliding back and sitting up until I had him sheathed snugly inside me. I put his hands on my hips, encouraging him to set the tempo by lifting and plunging me back down, while I gave him a little show, cupping my breasts, tweaking the nipples. He groaned, voice thick, and it was so sexy I shuddered. Soon I was rocking frantically, one finger rubbing my clit, my head thrown back in ecstasy. I'd stopped worrying about being quiet, and my gasps echoed slightly in the large room. _I'll just have to hope this room is mostly sound-proof. _

My orgasm crashed over me unexpectedly, the frantic pace he set combined with the pent-up frustration of him teasing me earlier combining to undo me, and I collapsed against his chest with a sob. He let me lay there, stroking my hair as I recovered, and then I found myself being rolled over onto my back. He was still hard, still buried inside me, and I gasped in surprise.

"I'm not done with you yet, little minx," he whispered as he began thrusting into me, slowly, grinding against me with every stroke.

I shuddered as my over-wrought nerves responded to his insistence, his assertiveness as arousing as I always found it; I looked up at his beautiful face, forehead pressed against mine, eyes closed in blissful concentration. "Once more for me, love; I want to hear you scream."

Entirely distracted by the fire crawling through my veins, I tried to demur, "I can't – no one can hear-"

He chuckled and picked up the pace, rubbing against my neck with his stubble. "Not my idea, remember? Personally, I don't care if everyone hears." He ground against me again and nipped the irritated skin of my neck with his sharp teeth. "Come for me, darlin'. One more time, I want to see you come apart at the seams." His Starkhaven accent was back, and I moaned as he continued to talk dirty in my ear.

His pace picked up again, and I couldn't take it anymore; I felt my pelvic muscles clamp down, and in a panic I bit into his shoulder to stop the wail from escaping my throat as I came. His rhythm suffered as he spilled himself inside me, letting out a muffled roar of completion, and then he collapsed on top of me heavily.

When he finally rolled off, I looked ruefully at his shoulder where I'd left visible tooth marks, though fortunately I hadn't drawn blood. I blushed and he smirked at me. His fingers brushed over my swollen lip, not bleeding anymore but still tender.

"We're going to need to get you a muzzle if we keep this up," he teased.

"Since when are you such a pervert?" I groused, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. I curled up languorously in his arms, listening to his hammering heartbeat slowly relent. "I don't want to be apart, you know that, right?"

"I know." He kissed my hair. "It was a good excuse to punish you, though. Seeing you like that – flushed and desperate…"

"I've created a monster," I sighed, and he laughed.

"Maybe tomorrow I'll set up our tent in here."

We shared grins, and fell asleep still smiling.

I woke to darkspawn nightmares, sitting straight up with a strangled gasp. Alistair was still sleeping, looking so vulnerable, so beautiful in the dim light. I pressed a kiss to his forehead before finding my clothes and dressing quietly.

I snuck across the hall in the early morning, before the servants were up for the day, cursing my stubborn need to show Anora off in the worst possible light. I stumbled into my own room to steal a few more minutes of sleep, as well as to mess up the bed so no one would notice I hadn't slept there. Solona was sleeping on her stomach, one arm falling off the edge of the bed, her mouth open and snoring softly; without waking her, I crawled onto the other side of the large bed and fell deeply asleep.

Aedan knocking on the door woke both Solona and I some time later; we dressed quickly and headed into the estate's dining room to find Duncan, Alistair, Zevran, and Aedan gathered before us with Teagan and Eamon. A quick glance around found a fully armoured, helmeted Theron 'guarding' the door. Alistair gave me a big smile that he hastily hid with a large mouthful of some sort of pastry. Aedan told Solona she was welcome to have breakfast in the barracks with the men, and she hurriedly excused herself to do so. There was a new face seated near Eamon, an elf who could only have been Erlina.

Her accent wasn't quite as irritating as Isolde, but her voice held none of Leli's sweet lilt either. She was a thin, nervous-looking woman who kept wringing her hands in an overly-dramatic display that left me comparing her to bad B-movie actors on Earth.

She was in the middle of a conversation with Aedan and Eamon, to which Duncan was simply listening, expression inscrutable. The discussion resumed where it left off as I sat down and began filling a plate. I half-listened, knowing what she was going to say, but realised that Aedan had totally ambushed her and left her reeling. I struggled not to laugh.

"Oh, but Warden, my Lady! She is in danger, and-"

"Yes, yes, she's been taken by Arl Howe, we know. What I'd like to know is what makes you think we have any interest in freeing her?" I saw Theron twitch, but fortunately he managed to keep his mouth shut.

"She is the Queen! You will need her support…you will be held accountable if she comes to harm and you could-"

"What, you think the Landsmeet will hang us for not risking our lives to cross Howe? If you had any sense, you'd have gone to some of those other nobles and asked for help, and I'll bet they've said no. I'm not saying we won't rescue her, but you have to admit this is the most preposterous way of asking for a favour, especially one that isn't really beneficial to us in any way,"

"Warden…" Eamon began.

Aedan waved him off. "Like I said, I haven't decided we won't rescue her. But what I will say is that we aren't going to be requesting your help to do so. Thank you for notifying us of her Majesty's situation; we will take it from here. You are excused." His firm tone would brook no argument, and so with one last imploring glance sent Eamon's way, she stood and meekly crept out of the room.

Eamon gestured and the other servants filed out behind her; Theron closed and locked the door and turned, pulling of his helmet.

"Aedan," his tone was a mix of anger, shock, and disappointment, "what in the void was that about? You don't want to free my wife?"

"Theron, think about it for a moment. We know from Sierra that when we go in there, Cauthrien will be waiting with overwhelming force to capture us. I don't know who or how, but someone finds out what Erlina's plan is, and spills it to Cauthrien. Maybe it's Anora – we've all already admitted that's a possibility. But what if it's Erlina? Howe could have turned her, threatened her. Maybe she was never that loyal to Anora. We will find your wife, but no one can know when or how we'll do it."

Theron sank into a chair and ran a shaky hand through his golden locks. "Erlina has been with Anora since before we were married. I'd hate to think…"

"She could be being blackmailed. Maybe she has family they've threatened. We can't be sure. And if it isn't her, she can't accidentally tell anyone else what she doesn't know, including Anora, either."

Theron nodded, stuffed a piece of bacon in his mouth, grimaced, and put his helmet back on. "I hate this thing." Alistair nodded sympathetically, and I winced thinking about the lice incident. Helmets weren't my favourite thing either. Theron stood, unlocked the door, and then turned back. "I don't want to know your plan either. I think I'll go train with the soldiers, perhaps." He left, pulling the door shut behind him.

There was silence for a few moments after the door closed, and then Aedan sighed. "That could have gone better."

I shook my head. "Should have gone much, much worse. He's growing up."

Alistair grinned at me, and even Eamon smiled.

Duncan cleared his throat. "Anyone have any brilliant ideas?"

Zevran sat forward, all pretense at languid lounging gone. "What we need, my friends, is a distraction, no? Something that will draw Loghain – and this Cauthrien – out. Something that won't give them enough time to call Howe away from his dungeon. If they are busy, they cannot capture our dear Warden, or anyone else."

"What would you suggest?" Aedan gave Zevran an approving smile, and the assassin actually blushed slightly.

"As awesome as I am, I'm afraid I don't have any good ideas in that regard. Everything I can think of could involve someone getting hurt, which knowing you, you'd like to avoid."

"I have an idea, actually," Eamon stated, surprising me. "With the right support, I think we could draw their attention with a protest. If the right people – me, Alistair, Teagan, maybe Alfstanna or Leonas – go to the Palace gates with enough support to ensure our safety, we could demand to talk to Loghain. If we make a big enough fuss, Loghain will have Cauthrien doing gate security. During that time, Warden, you could sneak in to the Arl of Denerim's estate and rescue Anora."

Duncan appeared thoughtful. "I may be able to improve the chances of Cauthrien being there by showing myself. By now Loghain must be aware that I am alive – I'm sure that messenger outside Orzammar sent word – and he will send her to arrest me. If we travel with enough support, they won't be able to do so, but it will definitely gain their attention."

All of us immediately started loudly protesting, except Eamon, whose expression was carefully blank. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, wondering if he was somehow hoping to get rid of Duncan to gain more control over Alistair or even Theron. Aedan noticed my gaze and cut off all the arguing with a gesture to Eamon to speak.

"What would you like me to say?" the nobleman asked. "Duncan is right. It will definitely draw the attention we're hoping for. But there's no doubt it's dangerous – if they have more forces than we believe they do in the Palace, they could be successful in arresting him, possibly even anyone who supports us. But the choice is Duncan's to make, is it not?"

I stared at him, wishing for some form of ESP, trying to see signs of deceit in his expression; there was nothing. Aedan and I exchanged glances, and he shrugged slightly.

"It's worth the risk," Duncan declared. "If the worst happens and I am killed or captured, you can go on to end the Blight without me."

"Duncan…" Alistair protested, with no convincing argument but still not happy about the concept.

"It will be alright, Alistair. Peace." He put his hand on my husband's shoulder, and I saw Alistair squeeze his eyes shut, trying to block out the worry. "Besides, you'll be coming with me. I won't be alone." He turned to Aedan. "If you're going to try to sneak in, you're going to need a small team talented at hiding in the shadows. I'd suggest that you take three non-Wardens with you, and the rest of our group can come with me."

Aedan nodded, thinking. "We need to do some reconnaissance, find a way in. I think I'll bring Zev, Leli, and Wulf, if he'll agree. And Anders, if that's alright; we'll need a healer. We also need a rescue plan in place in case I am taken, in spite of our precautions."

With that, it was decided that Zev and Leli would be sent to scope out the estate, while Aedan, Alistair, and Eamon would drop in on some of the other nobles currently in Denerim and try to convince them to march on the Palace in a few days. Duncan wanted to sneak into the Warden compound; the rest of us would either stay at Eamon's, or serve as security walking around Denerim.

Aedan asked me to stay behind and keep an eye on Theron, who for all his recent maturity, was still a bit impulsive; Zevran left to grab Leliana and head quietly out into Denerim, and Alistair and Aedan got dressed, while most of our companions escorted them, Eamon, and Teagan to the Gnawed Noble.

I availed myself of a bathtub, not missing the evident relief when I explained to the servants that they didn't need to bring me hot water; I showered, using Sereda's gift, then dressed warmly and went out to find Theron.

He'd spent the morning training, and asked to borrow my shower; he cleaned up out in the barracks – currently largely empty as most of the soldiers were either guarding the estate or escorting Eamon – and met me in the library, a similar room to the one in Redcliffe Castle. He wore his helmet through the estate, only taking it off after locking the door behind himself.

"I hope you don't mind? I hate this helmet, and I have to wear it constantly here."

"Of course not. I appreciate the company – I hate being left behind." I curled up in a chair, legs under me.

"Now you know how I feel," he grumbled, and I winced. "I know, it's for the best, but it doesn't make it any easier. My brother is at risk because Loghain may try to assassinate him like he tried with me."

"Alistair will be fine. Loghain's not stupid enough to believe he could get away with that twice. And things have changed; he doesn't have the power, nor probably the manpower, to do it."

"I still wish to know why. Why he left us. Did he truly believe it was for the best?" Theron looked sad.

"I don't know, Theron. There were a lot of darkspawn, and I'm not sure you could have been victorious even if he charged. Your father once made him promise never to risk the entire army to save just one man. But I still believe it was more personal than that."

"How so?"

"Well, let me think." I scratched at my nose thoughtfully. "For starters, can I tell you how I expect the conversation with him went when you informed him you'd be fighting in the vanguard with the Wardens? Tell me if I'm wrong." He nodded assent. "Right. I expect he explained his strategy to you, and I'm betting he didn't assign you a place, or if he did, it was somewhere in the back, like with the squires."

"The servants, actually."

"Of course." I rolled my eyes. "So you were offended and declared you would fight with the Wardens. And he went off on a rant about what a foolish child you were, and how you were so naïve to trust the Wardens, and how the glory of battle was not meant for you. He told you to do your duty, and made some comment comparing you unfavourably to your father. And then you told him he couldn't make you follow orders, and you placed yourself in the Vanguard. Am I right?"

"More or less, yes. There was considerably more shouting and disparaging my intelligence, but otherwise you are correct."

"And that's why I think it was personal. Because, Theron…anyone who knows you would realise that he chose the worst possible strategy for making you comply. You're many things, but you do not lack conviction. You don't see yourself as a coward or stupid, and you will struggle against any odds to prove someone wrong, especially Loghain, if challenged. The worst way to get you to do something is try to force you to do it, to make it a battle of wills."

He nodded, looking confused.

I sighed. "Do you know what I would have said, in his place?" He shrugged. "I would have chosen a place – perhaps on the bridge over the battlefield, or somewhere else – where you were prominent, you could be seen, but you could also see the entire battle. I'd have a group of messengers, a few soldiers, and a mage standing with you. And I'd have made you the commander. It would be for you to decide when to light the beacon, when Loghain would charge; when to retreat, if it didn't go well. And do you know what I'd have said to convince you?"

He looked intrigued, which I took as a good sign.

"Do you play chess? Does chess exist here?"

"Yes. It's an Orlesian game – not many Fereldans play, but I learned. I used to play with my father, and sometimes Anora or even Loghain."

"And when you play chess…when a piece, say a knight or a castle, when they checkmate the opposing king, and win the game, is it the piece we celebrate? Do we take it for drinks, toast its skill, keep portraits of it on the wall? Is it the piece that gets the glory? Or is it the hand that moved it, the mind making the tough decisions that we admire? Soldiers, even Grey Wardens…they are chess pieces. To be used strategically when necessary, by a superior intelligence watching the big picture and choosing the battles. You were not meant to be a pawn; you were meant to be the mastermind, watching the battle and moving the pieces. You needed to be somewhere you could see and control the flow of the battle, even if that meant a retreat when defeat was obvious. Standing in the vanguard, all you could be is a pawn."

I stopped and let him think for a few moments. I could almost see the wheels spinning.

"If Loghain had said that, had told you that the glory goes to the best Commander, not the best chess piece, what would you have done?"

"I'd have been the Commander." He smiled ruefully. "You're saying he manipulated me into being somewhere he could have me killed."

"Only if the battle went poorly, of course; he couldn't justify his withdrawal afterwards otherwise. But I think he suspected the battle was a losing proposition with the forces you had at your disposal, and he used the opportunity to get rid of you. After so many years, practically raising you since childhood, he knew what to say to make you sacrifice yourself. If he'd wanted you to survive, he could have convinced you not to be in the vanguard. For that matter, he could have knocked you over the head and put you on a horse. But once your mind was made up, neither Duncan nor anyone else could change it. The loss of the army, the Grey Wardens…that may have been inevitable. But with you, it was personal."

He scowled. "So that's it? I'm so stupid I couldn't even see through his manipulations, couldn't make my own decisions? Maybe he was right and I shouldn't be king."

"Cailan…no." Calling him by his proper name seemed to anchor him somehow, calm the rage bursting from him. "He was wrong, about a great many things. You aren't stupid. A little too trusting, perhaps, but how could you have known your father's best friend, the man who practically raised you, would lose his mind? Your father left a long shadow, and you never felt like you could do anything to prove your worth, while you were standing in it. And those who knew you, who were supposed to protect you, used that to try to destroy you. That is not your fault. All you can do now is learn from it. Listen to the counsel of those around you, but make your own decisions about what's best. At least then, if you make a mistake, you have no one to blame but yourself, instead of knowing that the mistake was someone else's, but you will be left to pay for it anyway."

He stood abruptly, and paced across the room silently a couple of times. His hair had almost grown out again, the last vestiges of the brown dye long gone, and he combed his fingers through the golden strands roughly as he walked. Suddenly he stopped, turned and bowed to me, to my absolute surprise.

"Thank you. For being the only person to treat me as a person, not a king, or a foolish boy. I have much to think about, and I bid you goodnight." He squashed his helmet back on his head, spun on his heel, and left.

I sat, openmouthed as he walked away. _Well, that could have gone worse, I suppose…_

* * *

_A/N:_

_Happy Satinalia, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanza...whichever seasonal holiday you celebrate, I hope you're all having happy ones._

_Here's my last update of 2015! The next update will likely occur on January 11, 2016._

_Thank you to everyone for all the reviews and well-wishes! We are slowly creeping closer to the 1500 review contest - so keep those reviews coming! They are literally the thing that gets me motivated to write on tough days._

_A million thanks to Kira Tamarion and Melysande, my fabulous betas. And thanks to BioWare, who created this sandbox for us to play in._

_Reviews:_

5 Coloured Walker: Well, there's all of our OCs for now. I'm sure I'll think of more eventually...more info on Conrad and Dougal will be coming eventually, and Wulf will be a significant player in the next few chapters...

SadnessAndSorrow: I'm working in my head on where I want things to go for Inquisition. My plans for DA2 will have to change somewhat - I started writing this well before DAI, obviously. It won't be the same - Sierra won't be Inquisitor, or anything, so you won't see the events firsthand the way you did for origins, but I do plan to cover the major plot and how Sierra's interference changed things...

Judy (Guest): Thanks!

ForgottenGrimiore: Hee hee I love seeing everyone's theories on where the story is going to go - between Archdemon and Architect. So much fun!

Oyshik: And I thought I didn't like Eamon and Isolde! LOL

Ioialoha: Would I do something horrible? *innocent eyeblink*

Flower248: You're welcome! And thank you :)

Dforce76: I honestly haven't decided what I'll do about Maric. I hadn't read the graphic novels when I started this...and yeah, the Landsmeet is going to be a riot. I'm cackling like a witch right now ;)

jamesers21: No spoilers! I find the Architect a very interesting character, I admit. It'll be an interesting challenge to write him...

thinkdragonage: I enjoy Wulf as well. The life of an elf is an interesting conundrum at the best of times! Being practically feral wouldn't make that easier...

InsidiousAgent: I definitely feel like the hive-mind of the darkspawn is under-explored in the games. It's an interesting twist to me - darkspawn are very capable of learning, but on a macro scale. It won't be this fight, or even the next one, but they will anticipate tactics that get used repeatedly and adapt their techniques and group makeup accordingly. At least in my head, that is :) Sierra as a broodmother would be dramatically bad for life in Thedas, I suspect. I have a hard time picturing them capturing her, with how her 'invisibility' works, though. At the moment the darkspawn are relying on using surrogate markers for location and hoping for a lucky swing to kill her. If they actually knocked her out, I don't think they'd be able to find her to drag her off...so no worries. I'm not planning a story from a broodmother's perspective anytime soon ;)

Rixru: There are definitely times when describing the travel is useful - the game certainly skipped over that aspect - and an amazing amount of character development can happen in that period of time, but yeah...mostly describing the day-to-day joys of waiting on Isolde to get her shit together doesn't thrill me ;) My biggest issue getting Inquisition into this story - actually I have two issues - are that Sierra won't have the opportunity to play the game, so she'll either be unaware of the real story or learning from someone else, which means she won't be anywhere near as familiar with the details...and the other issue is that some of those details are going to change, potentially drastically, because of Sierra. So...yeah, it's going to take some planning.

willandtheword: Welcome! Yeah, still going. I've made a commitment that come hell or high water, I will finish this story. Updates are every 2 weeks, at present...I've always thought the Mahariel origin wouldn't have a chance at survival if Duncan wasn't there, so yeah...no Dalish recruit. As for the Tabris...no spoilers! :)

Lady Velvet C. Peterson: Hope all is well and you recover quickly!


	19. Chapter 112: No Regrets

Note: This is the NSFW, full detail, smut-included original version of this chapter. If you prefer less detail, check out the chapter under the story "There and Back Again" under my profile.

* * *

Chapter One Hundred Twelve: *No Regrets

"If you wanted to run your hands through my hair, my dear Leliana, you had only to ask, yes?"

Leliana sprang away from the blond elf like someone had hit her with a taser. It might have been hilarious, if it hadn't been so shocking and serious and horrific a moment before. As it was, not one of us didn't gasp, twitch, jump, fall over, scream, or otherwise express horror, which rapidly transmuted into humour, as the reality of Zevran's survival sank in.

Aedan leapt out of my arms, lunging towards the supine elf; oblivious and uncaring who was watching, he showered kisses on the former Crow's face before burying his own face in Zev's neck and sobbing unrestrainedly. Zev reached up awkwardly to rub his back, murmuring endearments in Antivan.

Alistair, behind me, barked out a semi-hysterical laugh, and that broke the ice for everyone else; the entire group began talking and laughing, too happy to even speculate on the strange events that had brought us to this point.

As for me, I froze, kneeling where Aedan had left me moments before, staring open-mouthed at the assassin in shock, mind reeling. _How? It isn't possible, unless…_ Something occurred to me, and I narrowed my eyes, turning my head to examine my companions who were all celebrating in obvious relief. _So Morrigan sticking around wasn't for my benefit, after all, as she'd claimed. Who? Someone did that damned ritual, but who?_

Zevran blinked at me over Aedan's head, confused as well. "I rather thought I'd wake up dead…or not at all, as the case may be."

I frowned. "You've used that line already." _He's genuinely surprised to be alive…strike Zevran and Aedan off the list of suspects. Aedan was far too afraid he'd died to be the one._ I looked around some more.

Alistair wasn't on the list in the first place – I knew where he'd slept every night since we'd gotten back together, and it wasn't with Morrigan. Anders was deep in an embrace with Solona, a blissful look on his face as he held her like he'd never let go, and I crossed him off my mental list as well. A quick look at Jowan, Wulf, and the dwarves showed obvious shock, and I decided none of them were likely suspects either. Sten looked pissed off, and I wondered if he regretted his hasty decision to become a Warden and submit himself to a magical ritual given that it looked like no one had had to die to end the Blight in the end. Loghain also looked angry, but I ascribed other reasons for his anger – _probably just pissed off he'll have to go to Orlais after all_. I didn't think he would have agreed to the ritual to save his own life, much less the rest of us, without serious convincing – and Aedan, likely the only one possibly capable of it, obviously hadn't even tried.

Riordan looked weary, but also alarmed, and the look on Dougal's face mirrored that almost exactly; it was clear they were both concerned that somehow the Blight hadn't been ended, and the Archdemon was going to reform. I pondered the idea, briefly; it was, I supposed, just possible that Avernus' altered Joining potion was somehow ineffective, didn't render quite the right sort of taint to effectively kill an Archdemon, and Zevran – and the rest of us who'd recently Joined – weren't technically Grey Wardens.

But then my gaze fell on Conrad. The normally confidant redhead stood, looking around and avoiding eye contact, neither obviously shocked or worried, and his usually pale face was flushed red as he rubbed nervously at one wrist with the other hand. My eyes narrowed further as I stared at him, noticing for the first time how his shoulders slumped as though he carried the weight of the world on them – or was really, inexplicably sad. _Son of a…_

I stood on shaky legs, and Alistair held out one arm, clearly expecting me to leap at him. I reached out and squeezed his hand, quickly, before slipping around him to walk up to Conrad. I stared at him for a moment, considering the unhappiness that was apparent.

"You," I began, and he winced. "You did the ritual. With Morrigan."

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and then, finally, met my eyes. "Yes."

I was stunned at the sheer despair on his face, and I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder.

"Thank you. You saved him. Thank you." I babbled a few more thanks as he slowly, awkwardly, put his arms around me to pat my back. I could feel him shudder, and I went up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "Do you love her?"

He didn't answer out loud, but I could feel the tremulous bob that indicated he'd nodded.

"You'll see her again, I promise. And your son will be fine. I will help you find her, I swear."

He nodded again, and his arms tightened once before releasing me. I stepped back and eased backwards into Alistair's embrace to find Riordan, Dougal, and Loghain watching me with varying degrees of skepticism and concern. I almost laughed – they were giving me the look they should be levelling at Conrad – but managed to refrain. The other Grey Wardens, newer to the Order as they were, seemed to be missing the seriousness of what was happening, and for Conrad's sake, I was relieved.

I tilted my head, and Alistair and I stepped sideways slightly, the three worried Wardens following us and Conrad reluctantly accompanying them. Riordan looked almost angry, and I sighed. "Look, there was a ritual, okay? One that meant the Warden who killed the Archdemon wouldn't die. Duncan knew about it and had decided against allowing it. I thought he'd told you, told everyone..." Their unimpressed expressions made it clear that wasn't true. "But obviously not. Apparently Conrad didn't ask permission." I noticed Conrad playing with a wooden ring on his finger and smiled softly.

Their unconvinced expressions spurred Alistair to defend me. "It's true. Aedan, Duncan, and I all knew. Duncan forbade us from going through with it. I assume either he thought no one else would do it without permission, or he spoke with Morrigan and believed she'd accepted his refusal on everyone's behalf."

"And just what are the consequences of this ritual, young lady?"

Dougal took his age way too seriously, I decided, and I surpressed a giggle. "Nothing you need to worry about, old man." He looked startled, but even Riordan twitched a smile. Loghain glared at me as though he'd be able to divine why they were asking _me_ by burning a hole through my forehead with his gaze alone.

"No, seriously. I trust Morrigan. I don't know what exactly she plans, but I know the Blight is over, the Archdemon is truly dead, and she intends nothing bad for Ferelden or Thedas as a whole. Honestly, it will be okay." I purposely avoided mentioning a baby. _I want Conrad to be the one to find her, not one of the others._

Conrad agreed with me, confirming what I'd said, also not mentioning the child, I noticed. Apparently satisfied, Riordan finally allowed us to return to the celebration with the others. Someone had helped Zevran up, and while his arm remained over Aedan's shoulder for support, he looked remarkably hale for a dead man. I kissed my brother's cheek, and squeezed Zevran gently with murmured thanks for keeping Aedan safe. I exchanged hugs with everyone, more than slightly relieved that the little family I had come to care about were safe – with one exception, whose absence made my heart ache.

I finally got the opportunity to curl myself into Alistair's arms – he threw off his gauntlets, lifted me up and kissed me aggressively, plundering my mouth and making me fervently wish we were somewhere more appropriate, and cleaner. When he released me, I buried my face in his neck. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Duncan died saving me. I'm sorry."

He pulled away from me slightly, and I looked away, reluctant to see the pain or censure I expected in his eyes. He lifted my chin with one hand, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Duncan was never coming back, Sierra. Not after this. He would have been devastated to survive this battle. There is nothing to apologise for – not to me, or anyone else. He would have been happy to die to save your life, and I'm nothing but grateful that not only did he succeed, he won't have to go die in the Deep Roads alone."

"So…I did him a favour?" I sniffled, caught between relief the battle was over, and remorse that Duncan hadn't survived somehow against all odds.

Alistair chuckled. "I suppose so, yes. That's how he'd see it, anyway." He kissed my forehead softly. "I love you. And it isn't your fault he died. Knowing you, you were off trying to save the world, or something, when he saved you."

"I…" I blushed. "In other news, I did learn how to control that crazy smite that kills mages, more or less. The one I used at Ostagar."

"I'd like to see that!"

"You find me a handful of mages you want dead, and I'd be happy to show you."

"Think you could teach me?" He looked sort of…enthused.

"Honestly, no." He frowned, and I hurried to explain. "Nothing personal. I just don't think your magic resistance is high enough. I'm pretty sure mine is barely high enough. I was holding five emissaries' mana at the time. Pretty sure my brain was trying to drip out my nose, actually. It was awful."

He touched my face gently. "That explains the blood then. We should have Wynne or Anders check you out, just in case."

I nodded. "Once the injured are taken care of, I promise."

By this time, I saw a group of mages and a bunch of the Tranquil, supervised by Irving, approach Riordan. After some discussion, a subdued Conrad, Sten, and Jowan were left with them as they began the laborious process of draining and preserving the Archdemon's blood; once that was done, Sten had already started talking about how we could get the most scale and bone from the beast. A Warden had to do most of the work, given the risk of becoming tainted during handling, and Sten looked positively enthusiastic about the prospect.

The rest of us escorted a limping Zevran to the infirmary area, where Wynne was already bossing around a group of mages and a handful of others who were helping bandage, distribute potions and poultices, and generally aiding their efforts. She did a brief once-over on Zevran, healed an ankle he'd apparently sprained in his sprint to the Archdemon, and declared him healthy. She checked me over as well, clucking at the dried blood on my face, but found nothing of concern. Anders' mana was too depleted to aid much, and he'd apparently already taken almost a toxic dose of Lyrium while trying to save a soldier who'd lost an arm to an ogre, so he stayed with us as we all sought out Cailan and the rest of the command structure.

We found the King near the infirmary, shouting orders and making arrangements to have camps set, guards patrolling to watch for any lingering darkspawn, the infirmary moved to cleaner, drier ground, and had already arranged with Irving to have the mages begin scouring the ground saturated with darkspawn blood with the hottest fire they could manage. Sereda had some dwarves with some sort of medieval flamethrowers aiding them; I wasn't sure it would work, given the sheer quantity of taint I could still feel around us, but figured it was better than doing nothing.

We left Cailan there, after assurances were given on both sides that everyone was fine; Cailan hugged both Alistair and I, and my husband flushed, embarrassed but also pleased by the acknowledgement in front of the nobles gathered nearby. All of the Wardens, and our one remaining non-Warden companion, Leliana, finally headed to the new camp, assembling in the tent that would eventually be Cailan's. Our gear had been brought with his tent, so we had all our packs available when we arrived. We shed our armour and most of us collapsed in a rough circle on the ground, exhausted; despite how tired we were, though, I felt a bit wired and restless, and it seemed the rest of the group felt the same.

We spent a while sharing stories from the battle; apparently Alistair's group had taken down the first general, while Aedan's group spent their time killing ogres as they searched the battlefield for the second. I told them about the ambush from the north, the emissary hunting party, and the general who'd come after me, as well as Duncan's heroic end.

The group was quiet after that, contemplating the brave, selfless man we'd known as a commander and a friend. Alistair just held me, his sorrow muted by foreknowledge and his desire not to increase my guilt. No matter how many reassurances I received, no matter that no one else blamed me, I knew I'd never stop feeling guilty for Duncan's death. It might not have made sense, given that his survival, in many ways, would have been a worse outcome, but I doubted that when I closed my eyes, I'd ever stop seeing his sightless gaze and the pool of blood spreading around us, as I held his lifeless body in my arms.

Aedan, however, was more concerned about other details. "They were really hunting you?"

I nodded. "I'm guessing they had several groups, or maybe the Archdemon could just pay attention to any group that started having unexplained losses? But it was like they figured out what was going on, and so any time I stole mana or killed an emissary, the rest were just waiting to attack the space they assumed I must be standing in."

"Why in the void would the Archdemon care to hunt a particular noblewoman, out of every other soldier on the field?" Loghain's brows furrowed in confusion, and I sighed as those all around me burst out in defense of my skill and value as a target for the darkspawn.

Aedan halted it with a gesture. "A story for another time. For now, I'd suggest we rest."

We all agreed, and finally scattered to our own tents. The battle had taken a full twenty-four hours, and I felt every one of those hours as a separate clump of grit in my eyes, which were struggling to stay open. It was warm, with the spring sunshine pouring down on the camp, and we didn't even unpack our bedrolls, not wanting to contaminate them, instead laying out some blankets and collapsing on top fully clothed. Alistair kissed me sleepily, and then we both passed out.

I woke some time later, after the most dreamless sleep I'd had since becoming a Grey Warden. Alistair was curled up around me like a protective mabari, and I grinned to myself at the image. I had no desire to get up – cleaning my armour could wait, and I didn't want to see anyone else, really. With the possible exception of my brother, but given the earlier events, I didn't imagine anyone except Zev would be seeing him anytime soon.

So I laid in a tiny space, surrounded by the man I loved, and tried to come to terms with everything that had happened.

The Archdemon was dead.

So was Duncan.

Zevran had survived.

Morrigan was pregnant, and in a relationship with Conrad, of all people.

I was married, a princess, and lived in Thedas. I hadn't been back on Earth in months, and had no intention of going back again, ever, if I could manage it.

In a little over a year, my life had changed drastically, but almost all of it was for the better, and I spent a few minutes just being thankful for my life. I snuggled up closer to Alistair, and my movement must have woken him; I felt his arm snake around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and a sleepy, confused kiss was pressed to the back of my head.

"Eugh," Alistair complained, voice hoarse with sleep.

"Yeah, I wouldn't kiss me until we manage a bath, if I were you."

He pulled me, rolling me onto my back and, leaning over me, pressed a soft kiss to my lips, drawing it out and leaving me chasing after him for more as he pulled away. "We need to have that bath soon, then." I giggled, and he rested his forehead against mine with a smile. "You okay?"

I nodded and smiled back. "I will be."

We spent the early evening helping with organization – carrying the wounded, retrieving bodies for the pyres, chopping wood – whatever was needed. The feeling of the taint around us was heavy, but I could sense no darkspawn, and the mages had already begun incinerating the darkspawn corpses left after the battle and scouring the ground with fire. The Dalish had already withdrawn, promising to search both the Brecilian forest and some of the Korcari Wilds for pockets of darkspawn in their travels. Apparently while I'd been sleeping, Cailan granted Lanaya permission to establish an elvish settlement near Ostagar in any untainted land they could find. They had agreed to take in any of their city brethren who managed to make their way there, also.

I was proud and impressed – perhaps, for once, Thedas would have a true leader determined to at least try to change the fates of the elves, because Maker knew, neither Maric, nor Anora, nor Loghain, nor any of the other nations had even made gestures towards that end. The settlement also meant we had a reliable meeting place should the Grey Wardens need to speak to the elves, and I wondered if Aedan would consider establishing an outpost there as well. The Dalish took their dead and wounded with them, and I knew their Keepers would be as capable as the army's healers in keeping their wounded alive.

The dwarves had also gathered – they hadn't yet left, but they were planning to march as soon as the worst of their wounded had been stabilized. They promised to scout the countryside to our southwest for darkspawn remnants as they travelled, as well. Gorim had already bid Sereda goodbye; from what I'd seen, the Queen had a former casteless, now military caste man at her side, and I wondered whether he was her second, or her future husband. She'd kept a professional distance from Gorim, and he'd returned the favour; it was sad, but it seemed they'd both come to terms with their separation.

I received another small shipment of sovereigns from Dallard, and a letter admitting he was able to charge far more for the bola launchers than he'd initially thought, and thus felt obligated to share the extra proceeds. I was impressed with his honesty, and hoped I'd get the chance to thank him in person sometime.

Our mages were put to work in the infirmary, Anders and Wynne working on the most severely wounded with a couple of other Circle mages, while Jowan and Solona spent their time healing more minor wounds and lending mana when the others needed help for something particularly difficult. Sten and Conrad had assisted Irving and the handful of Tranquil in storing and preserving the Archdemon blood; they had placed it into individual glass bottles, which apparently Duncan had arranged to be brought, and packed into crates. We had a dozen of the small wooden boxes full, each holding enough Archdemon blood for an entire nation for the next several hundred years. Apparently Aedan intended to ship half of it to Weisshaupt – we expected a delegation from the First Warden in Denerim before long, given Duncan's declaration of independence – and keep the other six in Ferelden.

"Not that we won't share it if they run out," he'd assured Riordan, "but to use as leverage against backlash for splitting off from them."

Sten had begun the delicate process of stripping the scales and hide from the carcass. I was surprised again by his skill – he'd done the same to the Living Andraste, but I couldn't imagine why a warrior of his skill was also trained in such a craft. He explained that, in Seheron, the children assigned to become warriors initially learned to fight while hunting – wild cats, bears, wolves, some large reptiles he didn't have a word in the common tongue for – and that bringing home their skins was a sign of their prowess, allowing them to advance in the ranks.

Riordan informed us that, as the hide would need to be tanned and cured immediately if we didn't want it to rot, it was expected that the entirety of it would be used for armour and weapons for local Grey Wardens. I briefly wondered if Paider could be convinced to create me another set of armour out of Archdemon leather. _Probably not._

Late that night we all gathered again from whatever tasks we'd been doing, settling around the fire at our camp. Leliana was off somewhere, which left everyone present a Grey Warden, and Aedan and Riordan took the opportunity to discuss some things with the group of us.

"We will tell everyone that Duncan perished while killing the Archdemon." Riordan levelled a glare at Conrad. "We know that isn't true, however the means by which Zevran survived, as happy as we are about the outcome, will have unfortunate consequences should the Order become aware of them. As it is, I expect the First Warden to rage and shout about you leaving the Order, but nothing will come of it. Should they learn that Zevran survived killing an Archdemon, I fully expect they would call on any alliances necessary to grant them the forces required to come and apprehend him for 'testing', whether they had his Majesty's permission to enter the country or not."

Zevran smirked. "Let them come."

Aedan smacked his arm. "Let's not start a war, shall we, love? Besides, aren't you supposed to be laying low?" I was pleased to see the two rogues had not left each other's sides since Zevran had slain the dragon, constantly touching and sharing glances that conveyed their relief and gratitude. I smiled and snuggled into Alistair's arms, feeling pleasantly warm despite the cool air of the spring night.

"Not to mention what they may do to Conrad for agreeing to the ritual, and Morrigan, should they ever find her. As I was saying, the official story will be that Duncan killed the Archdemon. King Cailan has agreed to back this story; very few outside of ourselves know it to be untrue, and those we are aware of have already been contacted and agreed to maintain our secrecy to prevent a civil war within the Grey Wardens."

"They're going to figure it out," Anders complained. "Someone will have noticed, someone we didn't realise. They're not stupid, and rumours will get out."

"They may question what happened," Dougal allowed, "however with several senior Wardens and King Cailan telling the same story, they will have no proof. They cannot march against what will become a hostile nation based on rumour."

"They're not stupid," Riordan agreed, "but they are also confidant in their knowledge. They know that a Grey Warden must die to end the Blight, and may not question it if they know Duncan was the only Warden to perish."

I was nervous about the plan, but given how much else we were going to be hiding from Weisshaupt – my Joining, my unusual knowledge of the Blight, my invisibility against the darkspawn – it was just one more thing to add to the list.

"They're going to want his body," Dougal informed us.

"Absolutely not." Alistair didn't even hesitate. "He was a Fereldan Warden, a hero, and he's the one who separated us from Weisshaupt."

"He'd be entombed with the others who ended Blights, like Garahel. Are you sure?"

"We are." Aedan jumped in to back Alistair. "While I don't disagree that he was a hero worthy of that honour, we neither need them testing his body and somehow determining he didn't actually kill the Archdemon, nor do we want them claiming him in some way. We ended this Blight without them, and the victory should remain ours. Sending him back is just opening the door to submitting to their authority again."

"He was born in Highever," Alistair added. "I think it would be nice if we built some sort of monument there, and sprinkled his ashes."

Riordan nodded. "Fine. I believe that is all-"

"One more thing." Conrad finally spoke, though he wilted slightly under Dougal's disapproving stare. "I would like to formally request that I remain assigned to Ferelden, now that the Blight is over."

Everyone stopped and gaped at him except me; I knew he wanted to remain nearby in case I could actually come through with helping him see Morrigan again.

"Are you certain?" Dougal looked concerned. "This split from Weisshaupt…you may not ever be able to return to Jader."

"I will miss a few friends there, it's true, but I have no real reason to stay. No family, no life outside the Wardens. I think the split is the right thing to do; I'm more than a little sick of Weisshaupt's politics. I'm proud of what we accomplished here, and I'd like to help continue to rebuild."

Aedan examined his face critically for a few moments, then turned to Alistair with a raised eyebrow. My husband shrugged and nodded. "Can you accept less senior Wardens as your Commanders? Aedan and I were left in charge by Duncan, and we need to know you'd accept our authority."

"I have no trouble with that. I'm not looking for advancement within the Order; I'm perfectly happy not having to manage reams of paperwork and dealing with reluctant recruits." He grinned.

Aedan chuckled. "Welcome to the Fereldan Grey Wardens, Conrad."

The meeting broke up after that; I still hadn't seen hide nor hair of Leliana, but assumed she was helping Wynne in the infirmary or something similar. Pyres for those who'd perished were planned for the following day, most of the soldiers finally able to rest since the bodies had been collected and the wood chopped; in our camp, which was at the centre of the army's larger encampment, it was finally completely quiet.

I stepped into Alistair's arms when we got into our tent, turning my face up for a kiss, before looking unhappily at the blankets spread on the ground, the bedrolls still off to the side. "This sucks."

"I like our tent," he objected.

"Not that. I want to be clean. I want to be able to use our bedrolls and not worry about getting them tainted or covered in blood. I want to be able to touch you!"

"I have something to show you." He grinned, leaning down to pick up a bag I'd never seen before, then dragged me out of our tent and across the camp to the command tent. Fumbling about inside, he thumbed on a glow lamp Cailan had borrowed from the Circle, and ushered me inside.

"What's all this about?" I stopped, confused. In the centre of the pavilion was a camp stool, surrounded on three sides by blankets hung from the crossbeams of the large structure.

"A shower." Alistair looked immensely pleased with himself. "With the blankets, nothing else will get wet, and no one will be able to see from outside. As long as we're quick, the water will soak into the ground and no one will even know we were here by morning. Though if we're kind, we might want to lend it to everyone else – I'm sure they feel the same." He wiggled the showerhead at me before placing it on the little stool.

"You made me a shower? When did you even have time to do that?"

"I'm good at sneaking out of chores. Raised by the Chantry, remember? I snuck away from the clean-up when no one was looking."

I laughed at his impish grin and pressed up against him with a smile. "Remind me to reward your bad behaviour when we're done here."

His eyes darkened as he leaned down to kiss me, but I slipped away, pulling the tunic I'd been wearing since we'd shed our armour earlier over my head. "Last one clean loses."

I quickly shucked the rest of my clothes and bolted for the little makeshift shower stall as Alistair sputtered and began peeling himself out of his clothes. "No fair!" he whined, and I laughed as I began the first wash of several I planned for my thoroughly filthy hair.

He joined me before long, and we spent half an hour splashing and washing, giggling like maniacs as we finally got clean. Even before fighting the Archdemon, it had been difficult with armies around us, and while we'd washed up as best we could, our sex lives had suffered drastically from my need to wash before getting intimate. Not that Alistair was complaining – I was sure he didn't want to touch me, either, when I was covered in equal parts mud, sweat, and darkspawn blood.

He had me sit on the little stool and helped me wash my hair for the third time before carefully combing some conditioner through my unruly curls with his fingers, and then I let him sit and returned the favour. He was so gorgeous, sitting at my feet, head back, eyes closed in contentment, water streaking down his incredible body, that I just couldn't wait anymore. I rinsed the soap out of his hair, then turned off the water and sat down to straddle his lap, my breasts pressing up against his chest, and kissed him passionately.

It took only a moment of shock before his arms were around me, holding my slippery wet body to his, plundering my mouth with demanding kisses, and I could feel the evidence of his sudden arousal between my thighs. I adjusted slightly until I could feel him at my entrance, hard and hot, and I slowly slid down his length with a moan.

His hands went to my hips and he lifted me back up, only to drop me back down as he thrust his hips, burying himself inside me with a groan. "I love you, Sierra. Oh, Maker, this feels so good."

I dragged my lips down his neck, scratching my chin against his stubble as I sucked on his tender skin. He gasped, as I nipped at his pulse point, and drove himself into me again, and then I felt his finger on my pearl, gentle but insistent. I was already close, my relief, exhaustion, love and arousal all mixing into a heady combination, and I cried out; he pulled my face forward until my mouth pressed against his shoulder with a hissed warning, and I took the hint and bit him, stifling any further noise.

It took maybe three more thrusts until I was shuddering in completion, trying not to bite hard enough to draw blood as pleasure sizzled down every nerve ending, and Alistair followed me over the precipice a moment later as my muscles massaged his length inside me. His fingers dug into my hips as he thrust erratically, groaning softly in my ear.

I felt him soften and slip out of me as I sat collapsed against his chest, catching my breath. When I could breathe normally again, I pressed a soft kiss to the bite mark I'd left on his shoulder, and his breath hitched.

"I'm sorry."

He chuckled. "You need to stop apologising for things that aren't your fault." He rubbed the sore spot ruefully. "Though I'm going to milk this for all it's worth, just so you know."

I laughed and swatted him, then groaned as I climbed to my feet, my hips sore. "In private, I should hope."

"Well, yeah – it would be a shame to survive the battle with the Archdemon only to be killed by your brother for discussing our sex life where he could overhear."

I raised one eyebrow in mock irritation. "Never mind that - it would be a shame not to have a sex life to discuss, if your wife was displeased by your public bragging."

He paled. "You wouldn't."

"I might."

His frown morphed into a mischievous grin. "Then I guess I had better show you why you don't want to do that."

I threw a linen dress over my head without smalls, and sauntered past him as I collected my things. "Then you'd better hurry, unless you want me to start without you."

I shrieked in laughter as he made a grab for me, and then darted, laughing, out of the tent, leaving him to get dressed and follow; instead of running back to our own tent, however, I ran smack-dab into my brother. He looked at me, confused; his expression cleared up to a mixture of amusement and disgust as I tossed him the shower head.

"Your turn!"

* * *

A/N:

So now you know. I'm so impressed no one guessed who had done the ritual with Morrigan!

Thanks to everyone for the well-wishes. I'm alright, I promise. Just...going a different direction, professionally, than I had planned. On the bright side, more time to write!

A million thanks to my fabulous betas, Kira Tamarion and Melysande. As always, I don't own Dragon Age.

Reviews:

Flower248: I know, I know, but here's a nice extra-long chapter to make up for it. Don't lynch the author!

Oyshik: I was seriously originally planning to have the chapter end after the archdemon died, without showing that Zevran lived. It could have been so much worse ;)

emythelemon: I figured that Zev making the killing blow would elicit some feelings ;) I too love him! I couldn't let him die. But I wanted more drama than Duncan or Riordan killing him, no angst involved, you know? So being helpless was the best way. Plus it put Sierra close enough to see - otherwise the death would have happened 'off-screen' and then I know I would have been lynched...

Ioialoha: I'm glad that Duncan's death went over ok. I was worried! Yeah, Sierra's pretty happy about Zev surviving too, believe me :)

Hufflepuff-DragonRider: Yeah I wasn't looking forward to watching Duncan go to the Deep Roads. Think it would have killed both Sierra and Alistair...this was better, I thought :)

5 Coloured Walker: Yeah, somebody's got some 'splainin' to do...but MOrrigan, of course, left. Smart girl...

Xaiael: Sorry if I mucked up your vacation plans! ;) Yeah I wanted Duncan's death to mean something, but I knew he wouldn't be the one to kill the Archdemon, so...this seemed fitting somehow. Glad you liked it!

Turtle Burst: I did truly contemplate killing off more - especially since I have so many OCs - but I don't want to be all GRR and I have plans, for many of them, so...yeah. I am glad people liked the chasm thing. I wanted the Archdemon kill to be 'on screen' but knew Sierra and Riordan et al wouldn't be involved, it seemed a decent way to keep them out of it but in range of sight. Love to hear what's going on in your head, by the way, so feel free :)

Reploid Avenger: Not coming to a close yet, have no fear! I'm working on Awakenings as we speak, and trying to plan through DA2 and Inquisition.

Judy (Guest): Thanks!

Jarjaxle: And now you have your answers. I look forward to seeing what you think!

jukehero461: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thanks

Guest: Muchas Gracias! (Thank goodness for google translate!)

jamesers21: I'm so glad everyone was okay with Duncan. As for Morrigan, well, now you know!

Alastair279: Terrible? *pout* :) I'm glad you're enjoying it!

InsidiousAgent: I'm probably going to keep it as one big story rather than making a sequal - don't want to lose people! But I'm working on Awakenings as we speak, and then will eventually hopefully make it into DA2 and a very, very AU INquisition...Bah, an arrow to the knee would probably be an improvement - as long as Anders and Wynne were around to fix it for me :)

Boudica (Guest): Good guess, but nope! Not Jowan. I admit to being a little smug here :)


	20. Chapter 116: Three Campfires

This is the explicit, Ma rated version of this chapter. For the edited, no-smut version, please check the other There and Back Again under my profile!

* * *

Chapter One Hundred Sixteen: *Three Campfires

The Joining that night went about as well as expected. While three mages and three templars had survived until the potion was ready, most of them were ravaged by the taint, barely able to stay upright, skin blackening, hair falling out, fever running rampant through their ruined bodies. Alim and Rolan were the exceptions; the mage looked pale, but otherwise well, and Rolan had black veins visible only under the skin of his hands and arms. Unsurprisingly, they were the only two who survived, and in Rolan's case, it was a close thing – he convulsed and stopped breathing for a handful of agonising seconds before he seemed to stabilise.

It was interesting, feeling the taint alter in the bodies of the two who survived – overshadowed, of course, by the horror of losing four more recruits, not to mention all of those Aedan and Alistair must have had to put out of their misery earlier. I'd warned Zevran that Aedan would need some extra support later; no matter how necessary, wielding the sword of mercy was still an execution. Aedan would never admit that it bothered him – _stubborn ass_ – but having Zevran prepared to handle the emotional storm could only be a good thing. And I'd be ready for Alistair, whatever he needed.

Anders sighed sadly, eyeing Rolan's unconscious form; it would be worse, I knew, if he had known what I did about the future, instead of just generally knowing that the man was an ass. Alistair and I shared a lingering glance, both resolved not to allow bigotry to impact our friends who just happened to be mages.

Pyres had been prepared for those who didn't make it, and we all had a moment of silence – a disgruntled, irritated, depressed silence – as Aedan and Alistair lit them. Alim and Rolan woke within the hour, and after being fed a Warden-sized snack, were ushered to tents to get some much-needed rest.

Cailan had been informed of the Grand Cleric's disgusting decision to hide tainted mages and templars from the Grey Wardens, and from the thunderous expression on his face, I guessed that when he confronted the old hag, the fight would be epic. I was too tired and too sad, however, to find out, and I dragged Alistair back to our tent immediately after the new surviving Grey Wardens recovered.

My husband had been too quiet since they'd returned from the Chantry's hidden camp; I hadn't counted how many people had been tainted, but given only six left to take the Joining, I was guessing Alistair and Aedan both had probably granted merciful deaths to a dozen or more. I knew Alistair wouldn't want to talk about it with me – he seemed to remain convinced that if I was forced to confront some of the more brutal truths about life in Thedas and the acts he had no choice but to participate in, I'd lose respect for him, or lose the desire to stay in Thedas altogether.

Instead of discussing the details, I helped him take off his dragonbone armour, undressed myself, and pulled him down into our combined bedroll, allowing him to bury his face in my belly while I held him and stroked my fingers through his scruffy hair.

"I love you, you know that, right?"

He shuddered, and I dug my fingers in harder, kneading his scalp. The noise outside slowly settled as the camp went to sleep, and he continued to hold me, pressing his face into my skin. I'd almost have thought he'd fallen asleep except for the periodic spasms that passed through him; finally, after what might have been a half hour, I felt the telling wetness of the tears he'd probably been trying to deny since morning spilling onto my stomach.

He looked up, then, but his expression, instead of the regret or sadness I expected, was furious.

"How dare she? That…that…bitch!" He was almost stuttering in his anger.

I nodded. What else could I add? _He's not wrong, and I'd like to say worse things about her._

He lowered his eyes, whispering so softly I could barely hear him. "Being a leader is even worse than I expected."

I couldn't deny it; he was right. It was often easier to follow, to let someone else make the hard decisions and live with the consequences. I stroked his cheek with one finger. "What do you need?"

His eyes darkened as we made eye contact again and he saw the truth in mine – whatever he needed, I'd give, and give gladly.

"You," he replied, his voice a plea that sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine, pooling warmth between my legs.

I nodded, and with one massive push, reversed our positions quickly, pressing his naked form down onto his back as I leaned over him, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. He tried to chase me as I pulled away, but I held him down with one hand in the centre of his chest. After all the times he'd held me, distracted me, kept me sane through the Deep Roads and everything with Duncan…the least I could do was return the favour, and I planned to make it count.

I started sensually; I left him on the bedroll and dug through my things until I found a clean cloth, and my little stone shower head. With a cautious movement, I dampened the cloth with warm water, and then turned to carefully wipe his face with the warm, wet fabric. I slowly removed sweat and dirt as I dragged the cloth down his neck, his bulging, muscular arms, and his lean, sculpted abdomen. He laid quietly, his eyes never leaving me as I worked, and while I blushed periodically as I reached across him, dangling my breasts in his face or brushing against him, I didn't stop until his entire upper body had been cleansed.

It was his turn to blush as I washed his legs, and then carefully, softly stroked the damp cloth across his growing erection; I lingered there longer than strictly necessary, licking my lips as he swelled in my hand, and I giggled as he let out a frustrated groan.

Tossing the cloth aside, I leaned over him again, kissing him briefly before using my lips, tongue, and hands to trace the path the cloth had followed. I sucked hard over his pulse point, marking him, before soothing the irritated skin with a kiss; he grunted, and I had to push his hands down as he reached for me. I softly drew my hands across the hard planes of his chest, running them through his sparse golden chest hair, scattering kisses across his shoulders, and down his chest until I reached his tiny, pebbled nipples.

He hissed as I laved my flattened tongue across one little bud, then switched and sucked the other gently. His hands fisted in the blankets below him as I continued lavishing attention across his chest, and he growled out my name in a voice so hoarse with lust that I shivered deliciously.

I sat back, reaching up to stroke his cheek, and he nuzzled into my palm. "I've got you, love." I brushed my other thumb softly over a nipple again, and his growl turned into a needy whine. I smirked and leaned down to capture the intoxicating sound with my lips. "I'll make you forget your own name, never mind all the rest."

I kissed him again, and then returned to my ministrations across his chest and torso. I started running my hands across his muscular abs as I kissed my way down from his chest, stopping to dip my tongue into the deep indent of his belly button, eliciting a gasp and a whispered prayer. I climbed over one of his legs, encouraging him to move until I knelt between his strong thighs. Avoiding his large, very prominent length, I pressed more kisses down over his hip, running my hands over his legs, until I reached the crease where his hip met his leg, and I sucked at that tender spot briefly, listening to Alistair groan.

When I began softly licking the length of him, providing pleasure but no pressure, he arched up under me, and I looked up at the sweat-slick body of my husband. He was completely gorgeous like that – his entire body tense, flexed muscles standing out in firm relief under his skin, his face red, eyes squeezed tightly shut, his entire body bowed, as he strained towards the relief I wasn't quite ready to allow him. Seeing him like that affected me, however, and I rubbed my legs together in agitation as a wave of arousal washed over me.

I gave in. Capturing his length between my lips, I swirled my tongue around the purple head and then sucked hard, one hand cupping his sac while the other crept down between my own legs, gathering some of the copious moisture there and going to work immediately, urgently, on my aching clit.

It took only moments for his release, after the thorough build-up I'd given him; I drank him down gladly, listening to his hoarse shout as he came. I hadn't quite finished myself, however, and with an unfulfilled groan, I sat up, hand still active at my centre, needing more. I assumed he'd be distracted by his own aftermath, but to my surprise, he sat up, his fingers replacing mine in my damp folds, latching his mouth onto my sensitive neck and tweaking a nipple with his other hand. When two thick fingers pressed inside me, his thumb massaging frantically across my pearl, I gasped and shuddered and came in his arms, my hands gripping his hair as I rode out my climax.

We collapsed together onto our bedroll, and I curled up in his arms, pulling the covers over us both. He kissed my temple, and we fell asleep together, sated and smiling.

The next morning, it became obvious the Wardens were going to have a few more challenges than we'd even anticipated. With so many Grey Wardens, as well as the rest of our companions, our group had become large and somewhat unwieldy – and then there were the politics.

At breakfast, Alim and Jowan immediately began acting like feral cats, backs up and hissing at each other. I wasn't surprised; Alim was the reason Jowan had been threatened with Tranquility, after all – whether justified or not, I still wasn't sure – but given the large group, we decided two campfires were perhaps a good idea, and we separated the two mages with alacrity. At the same time, Anders and Alim both bristled around Rolan, who refused to call any of the mages by their names, instead calling them 'Mage' or 'Warden' in mocking tones. Aedan and Alistair both tried to intervene, with little success – proving a 'tone' was difficult, after all, and he was careful to do nothing that technically crossed the line, though he was rebuked strongly until he desisted – and the two campfire plan changed to three.

Conrad and Dougal had a falling out over the Dark Ritual and Conrad's choice to stay in Ferelden, and Oghren and Faren were suddenly not on speaking terms, for no reason I was able to ascertain.

In the end, Loghain and Sten joined Rolan at one campfire, Conrad and Faren joined Anders, Solona, and Jowan at another, and Alim, Dougal, and Oghren sat sullenly at a third. The rest of us – Alistair and I, as well as Aedan, Zevran, Bel, Riordan, Leliana, and Mornwulf – rotated through all three, trying to bridge the gaps and keep everyone calm.

The following day, Nathaniel, Fergus, and a portion of the Ferelden Army were going to be leaving for Highever; Aedan took the opportunity to solve some of the problems we were having.

"I want to send some of the Wardens with Nathaniel. They can help out around Highever, then go with the Arl to Amaranthine and begin preparing for the darkspawn assaults we know will be coming," Aedan muttered to Alistair and I.

"Good idea. And if we plan it right, maybe fewer problems with those left behind?" _I hope_.

"Exactly," Aedan agreed. "I also think we should send a smaller group to Soldier's Peak – they can work with Avernus, and help out the Drydens with getting everything ready."

"I'd send Jowan to Soldier's Peak," I suggested. "Avernus will work better with a mage, and our other options are less likely to be open to working with an ancient blood mage. Anders and Alim both would probably prefer to kill him."

"What if we send Conrad with Oghren, Bel, and Rolan to Amaranthine? No conflict there, and Conrad can handle any trouble Rolan tries to make." Alistair looked at us, briefly surprised when neither of us disagreed with his suggestion. "We obviously need Sten, Loghain, Riordan, Dougal, and the three of us in Denerim, for a while at least."

"So that leaves Jowan and…Wulf? For Soldier's Peak?" Aedan suggested.

"Not Wulf," I interjected, thinking of Kallian. "Take him to Denerim."

Aedan gave me a knowing look, but didn't ask. "What about Faren? He's pretty practical - pragmatic, even – and doesn't seem bothered by mages."

"They'll need an escort," Alistair agreed. "I'll ask Cailan."

"He promised to provide the Peak with a guard anyway, until I could hire my own people. I'm sure he'll agree."

I was right, and it was decided, with Cailan's approval, to send a group of soldiers with the two Wardens to Soldier's Peak, but not before he made the group officially swear fealty to me. I was extremely uncomfortable with the entire thing, but he insisted it was the only way to ensure the loyalty of the men I would have directly under my command.

He asked for volunteers, and apparently ended up having to refuse dozens when he picked fifteen soldiers to transfer. Apparently the Wardens' reputation had earned admirers, and there was no shortage of people willing to work with us. Some of them even offered to join the Wardens, but Aedan declined, saying that he wanted to get the current Wardens settled before he accepted any more, but that he would keep them in mind. There were a few that seemed disappointed, but Aedan's sincerity was obvious, and I knew that, down the road, he would truly consider those who proved themselves and were still interested.

With the exception of one. Among the group of knights who'd volunteered to go to the Peak was one familiar face that I doubted I'd ever forget, nor would I allow her to go through the Joining. There were few women among the group, and that made Ser Mhairi stand out even more from her peers. When she volunteered to Join the Wardens, I caught Aedan's eye, and very subtly shook my head 'no'. I admired Mhairi's eagerness and desire to serve, but no one would benefit from her death, least of all her. While Avernus may have updated the Joining Potion, I wasn't ready to trust it and use the poor woman as a guinea pig.

What I did, instead, was accept the fealty of the fifteen knights, including Mhairi, and then promote her to be the leader of the group – the Lieutenant, Alistair whispered in my ear when it became obvious I had no idea what rank to call her. _Maybe if she sees advancement in her future outside the Wardens, she won't be so keen to join and we won't have to refuse._ She seemed surprised at being singled out, but stepped forward confidently and agreed to take command of the small platoon of men assigned to me.

I wondered if some of them would balk at being placed under the command of a woman – either Mhairi or myself – but none of them even blinked. There were a few surprised glances at Mhairi's sudden promotion, but my guess was that she lacked seniority over some of the people she'd just been put in charge of. _I'll ask Faren to keep an eye on her and see if she's competent._

I made it clear to the knights that, in my absence, they would follow directions from Faren and Levi Dryden, my seneschal. They were to secure the fortress, aid in repairs and renovations as needed, begin patrols, and mark the route through the maze leading up to the Peak to make it more accessible. Aedan gave Faren a map, which he'd copied from the one he made for himself on their way there the first time.

And then it was time for goodbyes. The two groups leaving – for Highever and for Soldier's Peak – were planning to march at dawn, so there'd be no time for talk in the morning. Fergus shook hands with Cailan and Alistair, pulled an agitated Aedan in for a tight hug, and with a glance in my direction that I couldn't interpret, he excused himself to get the Highever troops ready. Cailan bid those leaving good luck. The rest of us went back to the Warden camp and spent the evening talking and laughing together. Faren and Oghren seemed to have called a truce, and the two started a drinking contest that soon had them unconscious together, and for once not only Conrad, but Dougal joined in.

Perhaps there hadn't been time for complete forgiveness, but the upcoming parting had made everyone rethink their hostilities, it seemed. Rolan, Alim, Sten, and Loghain retired early to their tents. I got the opportunity to hug everyone leaving us, though it wasn't a terribly sad farewell since I knew we'd be seeing them again before too long.

Finally, everyone settled into tents. I woke early, hearing the packing of the Wardens leaving, and slipped out of the tent I shared with Alistair just in time to see Nathaniel sneak out of Leliana's tent, face sombre. I hugged Jowan, Conrad, and the dwarves one last time and then slipped into Leli's tent.

The bard was laying listlessly on her bedroll, naked, though with a blanket covering her; she startled and tried to cover herself better when I entered, but relaxed when I reassured her it was just me.

"You okay?" I asked her, concerned for the hopeless expression on her face.

She attempted to smile at me, but it fell flat. "I will be fine, my friend." I frowned, and she sighed. "I have an obligation. I cannot stay, any more than he can go."

"Dorothea?" She nodded. "But, Leli…she doesn't own you. The Chantry doesn't. You need to do what's right for you, too. In the game, the next one?" She nodded again. "You're the Left Hand of the Divine. You end up trying to improve the situation in Kirkwall. But Leli…you didn't look happy. You were up to your eyeballs in conspiracies and intrigue, but you never smiled. You were involved with a Seeker doing some rather shady things. That isn't who you have to be!"

"She saved me!"

"And if she knew that what she had planned for you would make you miserable, do you think she'd still insist on going forward with that?"

The bard looked at me, a single tear sliding down her cheek, then turned away, burying her face in her pillow. I rubbed her back, silently offering support, until she relaxed again.

"Perhaps there is a way to aid Dorothea, and still remain yourself. To stay with Nathaniel. Just…think about it, okay?"

She squeezed my hand gratefully. "Dorothea really becomes the Divine?"

I nodded. "In the game, anyway. I suppose things might have changed since then. Justinia, I think. That's the name she takes. You say, in the game, that she's a good person who thinks mages deserve to be treated fairly, who wants to reform the Circles and help people. She sounds…good."

"She is."

"I'm glad. We could use some of that." I slapped her hip with a smile. "Now put on some clothes, lazy girl. You can't just lay around naked all day!"

She laughed and I grinned as I climbed out of her tent. The six Wardens were gone, and Aedan had just started breakfast. With fewer of us – and the troublemakers temporarily separated – we kept just two campfires; while Aedan worked over a pot at one, I started a pot of porridge at the other. Soon the smell of food had Wardens tumbling out of their tents, and we all settled in to eat.

Afterwards, Aedan informed us that we would be leaving for Denerim in two days. "The wagons to transport the injured have arrived, and they'll follow behind, but we will be accompanying Cailan back to Denerim to await the Weisshaupt delegation, Cailan's formal re-coronation, and the celebrations planned for the end of the Blight. Afterwards, Loghain, Riordan, and Dougal will be leaving for Jader, Sten for Seheron, and the rest of us will travel to Amaranthine.

"What about you, Leliana? The Blight is over. What will you do next?"

Leliana wiped her mouth daintily and smiled. "I'd like to come with you to Denerim, if you don't mind, and perhaps to Amaranthine after that for a short time. I have some obligations to a friend in Orlais to fulfill after that, but," she glanced at me with a sly smile, "I think I can delay those for a little while."

"Excellent!" Leliana actually looked surprised at Aedan's enthusiasm. "What? I could use a good archer to train any new recruits. And you tell the best stories."

The bard giggled happily and blushed, and Aedan turned to Wynne, who had joined us for the first time in what felt like months. "And you, Wynne? I know you've been helping out with the wounded. Will you be travelling with us?"

The mage nodded, looking pleased. "I will. His Majesty has asked me to remain at court for a time as a healer, and will allow me to continue working with the soldiers there. After his confrontation with the Grand Cleric, I feel I may be able to recruit some of the other healers and possibly gain crown support to open a free clinic in Denerim. I won't stay there forever – I have some research of my own to do, and Shale and Caridin have requested my help in discovering the key to golem sentience – but I'd like to get things established, perhaps aid in the transition to having more free mages outside the Circle."

I looked at the healer in shock. "I thought it might be nasty, but I never heard what happened with Cailan and the Grand Cleric. I assumed they hadn't talked yet. What did happen?"

Aedan laughed. "It was marvellous, Sierra. I wish you'd been there. Cailan was furious, and he had most of the nobility standing with him, looking supportive even if they didn't all totally understand what he was up to, or agree. He called her a 'self-serving, shrivelled-up, power-hungry hag,' wasn't it?"

He looked at Zevran for confirmation, the elf blushed slightly and nodded. "Exactly so, amore mio. I wasn't aware you knew of my…presence."

I raised my eyebrow – _Zevran had snuck in, and been caught? Hysterical_ – but Aedan just laughed. "I know you, Zevran. Anyway, Cailan accused the old bitch of murder, and told her he was going to make a plea to the Divine to have her replaced."

Leliana interjected. "The Divine will have little to do with it, no? Most Holy is getting on in years, and will likely have forgotten that Orlais no longer rules over Ferelden."

Aedan nodded. "Her advisors, the most senior Grand Clerics, will have to deal with it – it will be interesting to see what happens there. Anyway, Cailan told Elemena she may remain in Denerim for now, but that he would consider exiling her completely if she did anything to undermine him or the Wardens again. And he demanded that she grant the Circle some independence – he didn't threaten it, exactly, but the implication that he'd place the Circle under secular control if she didn't agree was certainly obvious. Greagoir didn't say a word, but it was clear even he approved. So now the Circle is going to train mages, but they'll be permitted family visitors when they're young, and will be allowed to leave the Circle more permanently after they're Harrowed if they apply for permission. They'll have to check in at the local Chantry wherever they go, and it only applies in Ferelden, obviously, but they'll be able to live outside direct templar supervision."

I snuck a look at Wynne, surprised at her beatific smile. She'd always seemed so fanatically religious before, and I thought she might have been worried about allowing mages too much freedom.

She returned my look with a wink. "What? Some very wise person I know convinced me that I have to look at what the Circle is attempting to accomplish, and decide if the current status quo is achieving that. It is not. I saw what desperation drove some mages to in Uldred's uprising. He may have been possessed, but the rest were just…desperate. I'm an Equitarian, Sierra – we need the Circles, but not as prisons. You were right."

I blushed. "I distinctly don't remember saying that."

She chuckled. "I may have paraphrased a little."

Anders looked absolutely astonished, and I giggled at the open-mouthed expression on his face. "The Circle is independent?"

"Well, not totally. But more than it was, yes. There'll still be Chantry oversight, and not all applications to leave the Circle will be approved if the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander don't think the applicant is stable, but some mages will be allowed to live on their own." Aedan looked pleased, proud even, and I knew he was as impressed with Cailan as I was. Taking away the Circle entirely was a recipe for disaster – mages did need somewhere to go and learn to control their powers, and those who'd been living in Circles shouldn't be dumped out unceremoniously with nowhere to go – but the way things were just wasn't going to be sustainable.

Over the next two days, we ended up spending some time with Sereda – who was engaged to a Deshyr's son, one of Harrowmont's supporters, not the former casteless she'd taken on as her second – and heard about how the changes had been going in Orzammar. They'd recovered Aeducan Thaig, as a result of the war games they'd used as training exercises for the Warrior and Military Castes, and hoped that by the time they returned to Orzammar, most of the Thaig would have been cleared of the taint and habitable. She'd found some stone masons willing to train some of the former casteless as labourers, and had rebuilt Dust Town, settling it with labourers, military, and servants who needed accommodations. She planned to populate much of the Aeducan Thaig with the former Casteless, who would be allowed to set up businesses and provide services to the few upper Caste families who chose to resettle there – for generous tax advantages, of course.

Gorim joined us, as he was no longer needed on the war council as a liaison, and would be returning to his family in Denerim. He and Sereda exchanged some tortured glances, but he seemed almost relieved to be going home, once she'd left at least.

Dariel came to visit as well, confirming he would be staying with Lanaya's clan. He and Mithra, his new bond-mate, had been acting as messengers between Lanaya and Cailan, but would be heading out to Ostagar with the rest of the clan. He thanked us, again, for sparing his life in the ambush where we'd met, and for introducing him to his new clan. He even shook my hand, despite his fear of templars, and I wished him well. I knew Lanaya would help him with his magic and with proving himself to the clan.

Bodahn, who'd evidently made a fortune selling supplies to the army over the previous few months camped in the Bannorn, was heading out – I knew he'd make it to Amaranthine and a boat to Kirkwall eventually.

"I hear the Free Marches will have lots of opportunities for a merchant such as myself, and my boy's never been on a ship before," he declared.

"Ocean, crossing the ocean," Sandal sang to himself, using a small rune he held as a pretend boat floating over invisible waves.

"The Waking Sea," Bodahn corrected almost automatically.

I sat down beside the simple dwarf boy, putting one hand on his shoulder gently. "Sandal? You know the runes that go boom?"

"Boom!" he cried, smiling broadly. "Enchantment!"

I nodded. "Exactly. If you end up going into the Deep Roads, you keep some of those with you, you hear?"

He grinned and pressed the rune he was holding into my hand. On closer inspection, it was smoother and shinier than the usual runes we used; I wasn't sure if it was just a pretty rock, or if Sandal had somehow enchanted it. "Pretty lady."

I pocketed the stone, ruffling the boy's hair and then giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. I turned to Bodahn, giving him a quick hug and making him stutter with a kiss too.

"You meet someone named Hawke, you stick with her, okay?"

"My Lady?"

I was never sure how much Bodahn knew about me; he'd have been able to eavesdrop a few times over the year travelling together, I was sure, but he might have been too polite – and he was too clever to admit it in any case. "You take care up there, okay? I'll miss you." And it was true; at the very least, Sandal's enthusiasm and Bodahn's unending optimism had been worth their weight in gold when things had been difficult during the Blight.

Shale and Caridin were returning to Orzammar with Sereda and the dwarves; they planned another expedition into the Deep Roads to find inactivated golems, and then Caridin wanted to really begin his research into how to make the golems sentient like Shale. And they wanted to go to Cadash Thaig, as well – evidently they'd never made it there before the final battle.

"Thank you, my Lady," Caridin said after he'd said goodbye to Aedan. He held his enormous stone hand out towards me, and I carefully laid my hand on his. "Your foreknowledge has given me a new purpose, and a chance to atone for my terrible mistake. I wish you well."

"You too, Caridin. I hope you and Shale find what you're looking for." I leaned in to whisper, "Take care of Shale for me, okay? She may be made of stone, but that doesn't mean she can't be hurt."

He nodded sagely, then turned and walked away without looking back.

"I find myself wondering if I shall miss It and Its friends." Shale approached me, and I turned to face her with a smile. "It is, perhaps, less feeble than I believed when we met, which was a relief."

"Thanks, Shale. I will miss you. But you can come visit – Soldier's Peak will be in much better shape before long – and I'll probably end up in Orzammar at some point. I'll see you again, I'm sure of it."

"Tell the Silly Warden to take care of It, or I shall find him and squish him."

I giggled, hugged the golem – not that she'd have cared, I was sure, but it made me feel better – and watched her stomp away towards the dwarves. _I actually will miss her, stubborn acerbic pain-in-the-ass that she is. Huh._

Teagan was going to Redcliffe to run things in his brother's absence – Eamon was going back to Denerim to meet up with Isolde and Connor, and then I hoped Cailan would find something for him to do elsewhere. I knew Teagan would be much better for Redcliffe than Eamon ever was. The redhead came to bid us goodbye, and I spent a few minutes teasing him about Kaitlyn – until he showed me the ring he planned to give her. "I like your Earth tradition," he whispered as he put the ring away. "Do you think…are you sure…"

I rolled my eyes. "She's going to say yes. Don't be ridiculous. I know you two will be very happy, Teagan. And probably have lots and lots of babies!"

He blushed, and I laughed. He sat with us for the rest of the evening, laughing and carousing, and then he set out at dawn with the Redcliffe forces.

We finally got underway for Denerim much later in the day than we planned. I'd already discovered travelling with nobles was irritating, and though I'd blamed it entirely on Isolde before, it became obvious that pretty much the entire nobility was just as bad. Some of them rode horses which had to be saddled for them, several insisted on carriages, and none of them were willing to wake a few minutes early so their things could be packed. Many of them had carried ridiculous amounts of stuff – I saw two full-sized mattresses being loaded onto a cart, as an example – and no one wanted to carry or pack anything of their own. The few servants were being run off their feet, so some of the soldiers were having to help out which made them cranky, and the whole thing was complete chaos.

Aedan and Alistair decided the Wardens would scout ahead, and so we split into teams of two, slowly meandering through the wilderness of the Southern Bannorn, aiming for the main highway leading to Denerim. A group of soldiers had been assigned to clear the way for the carts and carriages, cutting down inconvenient trees and creating a passable path, so we all kept an eye on them to ensure they weren't accosted by any darkspawn stragglers or local wildlife.

It had taken two weeks for us to get from Denerim to the Bannorn – travelling only with Wardens was a huge advantage – but it looked like it would probably take close to four to get back, between late starts and slow-moving carts. Things went a little better on the highway, with the carts able to travel more efficiently than on uneven ground, but summer was almost upon us by the time we made it to the city.

Denerim was still all but abandoned when we returned. Messages had been sent out to those evacuated before the battle, but it took time for people to return, and the city was like a ghost town. Walking through the market, only a handful of people – those too stubborn or too sick to leave – stared suspiciously at us, giving it a surreal feel. The market stalls were vacant, some of them sagging, with torn awnings swaying in the slight breeze. _The stalls look almost depressed, or…lonely. Strange thought. _

The only redeeming feature of the creepy, empty streets was the smell; for once, Denerim didn't smell like human waste and rotting corpses. There was a lingering, unpleasant odour when the air stagnated, but the light wind kept it moving, and for once I wasn't forced to breathe through my mouth to avoid nausea.

We marched straight through the city, the fastest trip across I've ever made, to be sure, and finally arrived at the gates to the Palace. There were a handful of servants with us, and another handful who'd either managed to return faster than the rest of the evacuated residents, or who had stayed put when everyone else left. There weren't going to be enough though – not for Cailan, and all the other nobles, never mind the wounded. As a group, we watched the chaos as Cailan tried to organise the few servants they had to getting everyone settled; to avoid making it worse, we decided to take care of ourselves. We helped ourselves to the rooms we'd held previously, putting away our things before meeting for a supper of leftover trail rations in the little dining room we'd used before.

Anders and Wynne excused themselves to help with setting up an infirmary, and after bidding everyone goodnight, I decided to have a long hot bath. Grateful to Sereda for about the millionth time since leaving Orzammar, I filled the tub and slid in, submerging fully before almost falling asleep in the warmth. I didn't stir until Alistair joined me, and after spending far too much time ensuring we were completely, squeaky clean, we both collapsed onto the bed and fell straight asleep.

We were all surprised to wake up and find elven servants bringing us breakfast and offering to run baths for anyone who needed them. The confusion only lasted a few minutes, until Kallian arrived, and the elves all jumped to attention before rushing away breathlessly to start hauling water.

"Kallian?" Wulf stood immediately, staring at the beautiful elf with dark, uncertain eyes.

Ignoring his obvious discomfort, or perhaps nervousness, she pulled the former werewolf into a hug, pressing her forehead against his sweetly, and the battle-hardened Grey Warden practically melted.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on a boat, or in the Free Marches." Wulf shook her slightly, and she chuckled.

"What can I say? I've never been good at following orders." Wulf growled, and she winced. "Look, a bunch of families from the Alienage wouldn't leave. They were afraid being loaded onto carts and forced to leave together was an excuse to sell them to Tevinter or kill them outright. So they stayed. But there were looters, and then a fire, and they were in danger. When I realised I couldn't convince them all to go, I stayed too, and brought them here. The guards recognised me and let us in. There was food, beds, and plenty of places to hide if the darkspawn had come. And together, we helped the guards keep the looters out of the Palace.

"In return for being safe in the Palace, I convinced them that if I was right, and that the King wasn't selling the rest of the elves or hurting them, they'd all help out here until the servants came back."

"You could have been killed!" Wulf was squeezing her waist now, angry and worried and completely exasperated, and she kissed his cheek as she slipped out of his grasp somehow.

"But I wasn't. I'm fine, Wulf. And now we have people to help out until everyone gets back."

Leliana approached the elf, who looked much less haunted than she had when we'd left, and claimed a hug as well. "Nicely done, Kallian." We all agreed, sending her smiles and nods of approval.

"So anyway, I'm here to inform you that his Majesty would like to meet with the Warden Commanders and Lady Theirin at your earliest convenience."

Aedan and Alistair exchanged pouts, and I laughed. "Come on, boys. Let's not keep the King waiting."

Kallian escorted us to another wing of the Palace, where the furniture had largely been moved out of two adjacent ballrooms, and instead pallets had been built for the wounded soldiers. Cailan paced through the makeshift infirmary, calling out orders and stopping to hold a hand or wipe the brow of an injured person as he passed by. Waving acknowledgement when he saw us, he spoke briefly to a couple of people who appeared to be more-or-less in charge, then rushed over to us.

His skin was slightly sallow, dark circles ringed both of his eyes, and he was wearing the same clothes from the evening before. His expression was one of grim determination overriding complete exhaustion, and Alistair and I exchanged worried glances before following him down a hallway to a nearby sitting room.

He slumped into a chair, sighing heavily, and we all did the same as he gestured to chairs. "Kallian? Would you join us?"

The elf, surprised, settled into a chair gracefully, and it was nice to see she didn't appear nervous in a relatively small room with three human men. We all turned our attention to the exhausted king.

"Cailan?" I ventured. "When was the last time you slept?"

He twitched slightly, and I scowled – he was preparing to lie to me, and I wasn't going to have any of that. "The truth, if you please."

He sighed. "On the road. There's been too much to do since we arrived."

"Cailan…" Aedan's tone was almost motherly, and I stifled the urge to giggle.

"Tonight, okay? I promise. But that's not why I asked you here, so could you all quit pretending to be my parents for a second or two?"

I did laugh at that, and we all flushed slightly. "Yes your Majesty," I teased, and even Kallian giggled as Cailan stuck his tongue out at me. "How may we assist the Crown?"

"Alright, so…hear me out before you make a judgement, but…I want to burn down the Alienage."

* * *

A/N:

A nice long chapter. I'd have shortened it to make it consistent with the others, but I originally wrote it to end here, and then realised I forgot stuff - and added more, and more, long after the fact. Fixing it would have meant changing future chapters...so meh. Have a long one!

As always, I don't own Dragon Age. And a million thanks to my fabulous betas, Kira Tamarion and Melysande.

Please send me reviews! Things have been stressful around here, and it really helps keep my motivation up.

Reviews:

Caeleinn: Probably about as happy as I am when I get notification about reviews! Yeah, Rolan. It would have been way too easy to kill him off...this will be more interesting ;) Yeah DA2 is going to be a little different than what you all expect...*maniacal laugh* Oh, uh, was that out loud?

emythelemon: This monster of a story has sort of gotten away with me, I have to admit; it's hard to have time for all the characters. I'll see what I can do with Zev...several of the prompts I got include him, so we shall see :) Aedan got Zev's earring much earlier than he would have in game, because of Sierra's influence in not letting Zev get away with his 'it's just sex' attitude. Yeah, killing Rolan would be way too easy. This will be more...dramatic :)

Ioialoha: Yeah, Fergus isn't meant to be particularly likeable, at the moment...and yeah, the Grand Cleric will get hers, don't worry.

Biorr the Old: Politics? Screwing over the little guy? ...Is there any other kind of politics? I've never seen them, if so...

Judy (Guest): Thanks!

Jarjaxle: Murdering Grand Clerics is frowned upon. That's not to say there aren't some creative ways of managing them...Cailan's pretty good at that. I feel like he'd be a lot more confident in his right to rule and ability to sway the nobility than Alistair, which gives him a lot more control of things at court, once he bothers to pay attention, at any rate...

Turtle Burst: You're dead on with Rolan. He'd willingly sacrifice himself to prevent the big scary mages from getting out from under the Chantry's thumb. I feel sorry for Greagoir, in some ways - he gave up, burned out, and stopped caring like he should, but he wasn't a bad guy, and the Chantry traps him between a rock and a hard place. Should still fight harder - should do a lot of things, really - but he's not the Big Bad. Getting rid of Elemena will help, tho! Cailan does have the capability of doig more - with the Dalish, the mages, and the Alienage - than Alistair would have, given that Alistair needed the Chantry to legitimize his reign. Cailan doesn't need to bow so low, fortunately. AT least in my head! Leli...things are happening. No spoilers - about her or the Architect! :-P

5 Coloured Walker: Thanks!

Flower248: Rolan was the templar recruited by the Wardens after the end of Awakening - the one who ambushed Anders and led to the fusion of Anders and Justice. He arranged for some of his templar buddies to help him try to attack Anders, and Anders/Justice killed him - and others - trying to get away. But just letting him die would be WAy too easy, don't you think?


	21. Chapter 120: Vigilance

This is the NSFW version of this chapter with descriptive sex scenes. If that's not your thing, please see "There and Back Again", the edited version under my profile.

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Chapter One Hundred Twenty: *Vigilance

It was five, miserable days of walking through the early fall rain to reach Amaranthine, and by the time we did, every single thing I owned was soaked. The Vigil was as ugly as I remembered from Awakenings, and worse than I'd imagined it. The walls around it sort of…sagged, obviously in major need of maintenance, and the gate couldn't even be closed, never mind barred, the wood warped and cracking. I didn't care at that moment, however; the main building was more-or-less waterproof, I assumed somewhere inside there would be a bathtub I could use and a bed to collapse into.

I'd never been so happy to see a dilapidated stone monstrosity in my entire life.

I was thrilled to learn that Nathaniel had warned the staff we were coming; there were torches lit, and a massive brazier in the entry hall took the chill and dampness out of the air as we all shrugged off wet cloaks and dropped our sodden backpacks. We'd rated a couple of pack animals for the trip, given to us by Cailan; most of our gear was with them, and we carried only personal items. Most of us weren't skilled enough horsemen to justify giving us horses. As we filtered into the main hall of the keep from the foyer, a bevy of servants swarmed the entry way, taking our things and disappearing down a side hallway.

An older, distinguished-looking man I recognised easily from Awakenings awaited us by the roaring hearth at one end of the room, and I had to stop myself from rushing forward to greet him. Nathaniel shook his hand, and then turned to us.

"This is-"

"Seneschal Varel," I breathed, interrupting Nathaniel and earning myself a grin from the normally taciturn nobleman, and a confused frown from poor Varel.

"As ever, the lady is correct. Varel, these are the Wardens and their companions I mentioned."

He introduced each of us in turn, and we all exchanged brief Warden greetings or handshakes – except for Alistair and me. Varel dropped to one knee in front of us, calling both of us 'your Highness' despite Nate's introduction of us as Warden-Commander and Lady Theirin. Alistair stiffened, his expression dismayed; I just sighed. _I've been getting this so much I'm almost used to it. How sick is that?_

I stepped forward, taking Varel's hand and pulling him to his feet. "Please, don't. We don't stand much on ceremony. I'm just Sierra, he's Alistair. Definitely not 'your Highness', and preferably not 'my Lady'. If you need a title for him," I gesture over my shoulder at Alistair, "go for Commander, but I'm still just Sierra. Please?"

I was babbling, and the Seneschal blinked at me in bemusement. "So, if I have this straight, you're trying to have me arrested?"

I stared at him for a moment with my mouth open, until finally Nathaniel laughed. "Varel, don't give the Lady a hard time." He turned to me and stage-whispered, "Some people say I'm the one with the dry sense of humour, but I learned it from him."

I glanced back at Varel, and saw a hint of a smirk playing around his lips. _Oh, he's kidding. I'm an idiot._ Aedan chuckled, and then I was giggling as I shook Varel's hand.

"Sorry, your Highness."

"Sierra," I said firmly, insistently making eye contact.

"My Lady," he tried, but I shook my head. He sighed. "Lady Sierra?"

I guessed that this was the most I could reasonably expect. I rolled my eyes, and finally nodded.

"I have quarters prepared for you all. I imagine you'd all like to get dry. Please follow me."

Nathaniel followed behind as we all trooped after Varel, soggy and cold, up a couple flights of stairs and down a long hallway. There was a large sitting area at one end, holding a handful of servants and most of the group's gear. Varel gestured to either side as he walked.

"These are your rooms. Wardens Conrad, Rolan, Bel, and Oghren," he grimaced at the last entry in his list, and I giggled, "have already chosen rooms. The open doors are available, please choose whichever room you'd like."

I glanced through one open door to see a small, plain room, with an armour stand, a large chest, a small wardrobe, and an oversized single bed. _Nice, but plain. Perfect, actually – though I hope there's a room with a bigger bed. _I flushed, and Alistair looked at me with a smirk, apparently having the same thought. I slapped his shoulder, and he chuckled.

"There are two double-occupancy rooms around that corner, if you wish. Bathing rooms are down the hall - the first baths have been drawn, and the servants will help you settle in and draw the next baths when you're ready. The dining room is off the main hall – a late supper will be served there in approximately one hour. The other Wardens will meet you there." I had to admit to being surprised that Conrad and the others weren't waiting for us when we arrived.

He turned to look at me, before letting his gaze travel to Alistair and Aedan. "Commanders, Lady Sierra, your quarters are this way."

_Oh, the double-occupancy rooms aren't for us?_ Aedan put his hand on Zevran's shoulder, pushing him to keep walking; Nathaniel tucked Leliana's hand shyly under his arm, and I saw her beam him an ecstatic smile as he followed Varel further down the hall. I looked back, as Alistair led me forward, to see Solona and Anders disappearing around the corner, heading towards the larger rooms, and I smiled. They had begun sleeping together again sometime around the battle with the Archdemon – _how Solona held out that long, I've no idea_ – but had tried to keep it a secret until we'd left Denerim, for some reason. Largely unsuccessfully; _they aren't used to rogues in the Tower, I think._ I was pleased they'd finally decided to be together openly.

I was thoroughly lost by the time Varel paused in a long, dim hallway; between gawping around like a fish, and woolgathering about Solona and Anders, I hadn't paid any attention to our route. I hoped Alistair had some idea how to get back to the main hall, or we were both going to be embarrassed – and hungry – before long.

Varel pointed at a closed door, and turned to Alistair and me. "This one is yours, Commander and Lady Sierra. The one opposite is for you." He pointed at Aedan. He didn't seem fazed by Zevran's presence, and I smiled gratefully.

We opened the doors and peeked inside; I gasped when I found a beautifully furnished room larger than the one at the Palace in Denerim I'd shared with Alistair. There was an enormous bed, a four-poster with a canopy, a couch in front of the merrily burning hearth, a little nook to the side with what looked to be a makeup counter complete with a large mirror on a stand, and I assumed the curtained door off to the right led to a private bathroom. The rug and walls were deep brown, the fabric of the drapes, canopy, and couch a royal blue, and a large, beautiful painting of a beach and the ocean tied it together nicely. Aedan's room was similar, though slightly smaller and decorated in shades of green, with no makeup nook.

I giggled. "I think you've got the rooms reversed, Seneschal. I have no idea what to do with that area, but I'm certain someone else could use it." I winked at Zevran, and he growled good-naturedly at me; Varel's ears reddened as he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to hide his smile. Aedan just laughed.

"Well, I'm certain you'll find some use for the desk, Sierra." Nathaniel's tone was wry, and he smirked at me. "Anyway, my room's there. Now, if you'll excuse us…"

He took Leliana's hand and led her through the doorway; three servants came bustling around the corner, each loaded down with soggy bags, and they dropped our things on the floor inside each of our rooms.

"Put all wet items, laundry, or armour to be cleaned in the hamper, and someone will see to them in the morning," Varel instructed. "The servants should be here momentarily with hot water for the baths."

"We won't need any," I volunteered, pointing at Alistair and me, flushing when Varel raised his eyebrow at me. "Queen Sereda gave me a dwarven water rune."

"Very well. See you in the dining hall in an hour." He nodded at us. "Commanders, Lady Sierra, Warden." He followed the servants away, leaving us standing in the hallway.

I turned to Aedan. "We are in the family rooms, I'm assuming? I feel like that's just…that's not right."

Aedan frowned at me. "Sort of, but not really. Pretty much every Keep, and every decent-sized estate for that matter, has rooms for honoured guests, near the family quarters. But I'm guessing the actual family rooms are being renovated – these aren't where Nate lived when he was little, I'd bet. Knowing his father, the family rooms are probably in severe need of redecorating. I'd bet that's technically a guest room too." He pointed at Nate's door. "The bigger issue is where any actual guests will sleep if we're occupying the guest rooms. Guess we better hope Cailan and Fergus don't come to visit over the next few months. You're in their room."

"We are? How can you tell?"

Aedan took a few steps into the room I was to share with Alistair and pointed at the curtained doorway. "That's how."

I shot him a confused look, and headed through the curtain, Alistair on my heels. There was a large bathroom, with two basins sunk into a large cabinet, a bathtub that could easily accommodate the four of us, and an unusual chamber pot, but what drew my attention was another doorway, also blocked by a curtain. Behind that door, there was a small corridor with three more doors. One led to a second, somewhat smaller bedroom that was still lavishly furnished and had a hearth of its own, also lit; one led back to the hallway; and the third to a tiny room holding bunkbeds. I turned back to Aedan, puzzled.

"Married quarters for a king or someone of status," he said, as though that explained anything. I raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled. "Most married couples don't sleep together, at least in arranged marriages. You don't think Cailan and Anora shared a room, do you? This is the husband's private chamber. He would…uh, 'visit' his wife in her room when they wanted to, uh…"

We all blushed, except Zevran, who cackled while we all avoided eye-contact awkwardly. _My brother may approve of my husband, but he hasn't gotten over his abject fear of talking about sex with me_. I snorted. "Right. Got it."

Aedan pointed at the other room and cleared his throat. "And that's where your lady's maid and manservant would stay."

I sighed. "I'm not having servants. This is ridiculous. That space could be useful for something, but I guess it can just stay empty for now. We won't be here forever, I suppose." I looked into the bedroom again. "Maybe I can shove the bed against the wall and use this room as an office."

"Anyhow," Aedan muttered, and Zevran chuckled again. "We'll just leave you…"

He and Zevran trooped out and across the hall; Zevran closed the door behind himself with a lascivious wink in my direction. I rolled my eyes. Once they were gone, I turned to find Alistair rifling through one of his bags, looking for something – my shower head, I hoped. I eyed him thoughtfully.

He glanced up at me self-consciously. "What?"

I bit my lip. "Do you…I mean, should I not turn that room into an office?"

He frowned and stood up, reaching out to cup my cheek. "I have no intention of sleeping in a bed you aren't in, if that's what you're asking. Might as well save myself the walk when we want to 'visit'," he joked, smirking.

I laughed and slapped his chest lightly with the flat of my hand. He grabbed the hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my palm softly. Looking down at me, his grin slowly faded, and he cocked his head slightly. "Unless…do you want me to sleep in there?"

"Maker, no! If you're sleeping in there, so am I." I stepped closer, pressing myself up against his chest despite his clunky armour. "Married couples are mostly expected to share a bed, where I come from." I smiled softly up at him. "I just don't want to, you know, coerce you into something _unnatural_ to you, or anything."

"Unnatural?" He chuckled. "I never thought I'd be with anyone, Sierra. I never predicted I'd be married, so it's not as though I spent hours imagining my married life. I was certainly never a noble son who expected an arranged marriage. I married you because I love you, and I want nothing more than to share a bed with you for the rest of my life. The only unnatural thing would be lying alone in a bed down the hall from you, instead of curled up with you."

I reached up to put my hand on his shoulder, unbuckling the strap I knew rested there. "Speaking of… We have an hour. I think I'd like to show you just how much I enjoy your 'visits'. Did you find my shower head yet?"

He held up his hand, the little shower head gripped in his palm, and I reached for the buckles of my own armour, flicking them open and dropping pieces behind me as I turned to head back into the bathroom.

"Coming?" I asked my husband, who was watching me with a rapidly darkening gaze.

He snorted and began the process of removing his armour; by the time he made it to the bathroom, I was naked and had done my business with the chamber pot. The unusual feature I hadn't initially understood about the necessary piece of furniture was that, contrary to most of the chamber pots I'd seen since coming to Thedas, this one was actually anchored down to the floor, sort of the way toilets were on Earth. I'd inspected it briefly to discover that, surprisingly, the Vigil had been built with at least rudimentary plumbing. Instead of an actual pot, there was a tube, lined with what had to be thin sheets of metal, leading down into the floor, and underneath the sink there was a large bucket of cold, not entirely clean-looking water. I realised the water must be used to flush the makeshift toilet, and was probably used bathwater or something similar – to save a servant having to bring up buckets of extra water every day.

The tub also had a drain in the bottom, and another tube led underneath the stone floor. I grinned at Alistair as he came in. "I may not love living in Rendon Howe's former home, but I won't complain about the accommodations." I showed him the plumbing, and he whistled, impressed.

"I'm so happy for you," he murmured, wrapping his big hands around my waist and pulling me in to kiss my forehead.

"For me?" I cocked my head to the side, confused.

"I know how you feel about daily showers." He grinned. "Not that I'm complaining – you in the shower is one of my favourite things."

"Show me," I whispered, reaching up to wrap my arms around his neck, raising my lips for a proper kiss.

He indulged me, deepening the kiss and invading my mouth with his tongue; I gasped as he reached down, tightened his grip, and lifted me like a child into the tub. We separated long enough to get clean, using the luxurious soaps and shampoo sitting on a little table next to the tub; Alistair finished first, his short hair taking less effort than my long curls, and he took the opportunity to run his soapy hands down my back, then over my shoulders while I lathered my hair. I hummed happily as he pressed his thumbs into a knot in my neck.

He stepped closer, his chest pressed to my back, and his hands wandered down my front to cup my breasts. One soapy thumb teased my nipple, the other held my shower head, playing the water across my breasts and down my front. His teeth found my neck, and I could feel his erection pressing against my lower back as I leaned into his embrace.

I moaned and pressed my ass back more firmly against him, hair forgotten as I reached out blindly for the wall in front of me, needing something to brace myself against. One of Alistair's arms wrapped around my waist, tilting my pelvis, and I felt his length between my legs, searching for entrance. I spread my legs further and gasped as he entered me, stretching me deliciously and hilting himself in one swift plunge.

And then it was all sensation – his hands, one still teasing my hard nipple, the other now aiming my shower head at the apex of my thighs, the water tickling at my clit; his length inside me, filling me, just this side of too much; his lips and teeth on my neck and shoulder; the slickness of the wall my fingers scrabbled against for purchase. The little bathroom was starting to steam up, and my breath came in frantic bursts as I tried to hold back, keep myself in one piece as the feeling of him overwhelmed me.

I was vaguely aware that Alistair was probably less than comfortable, crouched as he was to accommodate my shorter legs, and that the water from my shower head was spraying across the room as he lost control of his aim; I was aware, but I didn't care. Only we mattered, only that he didn't stop, only that he held me as I shrieked into orgasm in his arms, shuddering and writhing as all thought fled.

When I came back to myself, we were kneeling in the half-full tub, water running down the walls and dripping from the ceiling; I was perched in Alistair's lap, while his length softened inside me and he panted, his forehead pressed against my shoulder. I groaned softly as he slipped out of me, and he readjusted us so that he sat in the tub and held me sideways across his lap. His big hands stroked my arm and back soothingly, and I twisted to meld my mouth to his once I'd finally caught my breath.

"Andraste's panties, that was…" He shook his head, apparently at a loss for words.

"Mmhmm," I agreed, settling my head against his shoulder sleepily. "I love you, Alistair Theirin."

"Oh, Sierra." He tilted my head back and kissed me again. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of hearing you say that. Or of you, just in general," he finished with an endearingly shy smile.

Suddenly he twitched, muscles jumping beneath my bottom. "Maker! We're going to be late for dinner."

A little bit over an hour after Varel had left us, clean and more-or-less dry, I followed Alistair back through the winding corridors of the Vigil towards the dining room. I was certain we couldn't be going the quickest way – or else the place really was designed by a mad man – but we hadn't had time to explore and find a shortcut. The other Wardens' rooms were empty when we went past, and Alistair and I both blushed when we realised we were going to be probably conspicuously late.

Once we reached the main floor, we were able to follow our noses to the dining room. The noise echoing down the hallway as we approached was incredible; I could hear Oghren's drunken laugh – _heh heh heh_ – over the sounds of talking, laughter, and eating, and Alistair and I exchanged smiles before racing through the swinging door to see everyone.

There were multiple tables in the hall, currently set up in a large square configuration so everyone could see everyone else; food was piled atop more tables around the periphery, and servants circulated through with wine and ale. There were a lot more people present than I expected; our group had apparently been joined by a large number of dwarves, who were sitting along the far side of the square, eating and drinking while quietly watching the proceedings. I was distracted from figuring out who they were, however, when a strong pair of arms ripped me out of Alistair's grasp and swung me in a circle.

I looked up to see Conrad grinning down at me; his green eyes sparkled, and his usually flawlessly coiffed ginger hair was a mess. He looked content, and I guessed he was happy to see me, if the smile was any indication. When he finally deposited me back on the ground, breathless and giggling, I almost fell as I was thumped enthusiastically on the back by another ginger – this one a dwarf.

"Toots!" Oghren roared, and I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at the obviously inebriated dwarf. "Thought you'd never get here. You two spend any more time playing hide the sausage, and you'd have missed the grub altogether!"

Alistair smacked Oghren good-naturedly upside the head while I groaned and hid my face in my hands; finally Leliana rescued me and drew me into a conversation with Bel, whose stutter had continued to improve until it was barely noticeable now. I grasped his forearm warmly, and then tilted my head to the dozen or more unfamiliar dwarves across the room as I prepared myself a plate from the generous dishes on the sideboard.

"Who're our guests?" I asked, as a servant delivered me a glass of wine, and I settled into a seat between Bel and Leli. Aedan and Alistair had been called to sit alongside Nathaniel and Varel, and the rest of the Wardens filled out the other two sides of the square. I noticed Rolan sitting at the end nearest the dwarves, eating quietly, alone. He hadn't even glanced at the mages, as far as I could tell, and I wondered what Conrad had said to him over the past few months. _Maybe he won't be as big an ass as you think….yeah, right._

"Legion of the D-dead!" Bel's enthused answer pulled me out of my daze. "Not Kardol's, but one of the other companies. We hired local hunters to find the Deep Roads tunnel collapse you warned us about, and found an entire company of the Legion being attacked by darkspawn. Rescued them, and – with the help of Dworkin – killed a handful of broodmothers. Figured you'd want to m-meet them, so we dragged them back with us."

I blinked as I processed that information. _Kal'Hirol, already cleared? The Legion of the Dead – alive?_ I looked at the dwarves more closely, and there, in the middle, found a familiar face – Sigrun. She was talking to another dwarf, a broad smile on her pretty face, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke, while the recipient of her enthusiastic chatter grunted and avoided eye contact. I chuckled. _Seems even her comrades can't get used to her overwhelming cheerfulness._ I remembered Sigrun from the game – at the end, going back into the Deep Roads to die, full of survivor's guilt – and wondered when the unexpected consequences of my presence in Thedas would stop surprising me.

Something else struck me. "Wait – Dworkin? He's here?"

Bel nodded. "He's mad as a…actually, I don't even know, but he's here. Collapsed h-half of that Thaig on the broodmothers with some Lyrium bomb. Trevian was so angry! But we killed a lot of 'spawn, and none of them were the talking kind."

"Is Dworkin's brother here too?"

"Voldrik. Yeah, somewhere. They're n-not very sociable, those two. Dworkin's too crazy, and Voldrik's too gloomy."

I smiled, relaxing. Not that I hadn't trusted the stone masons Sereda had 'loaned' us, but I knew Voldrik was capable of fixing up the Vigil to withstand everything the Mother could throw at it. If they worked together, who knew what would happen! I'd just have to convince Nathaniel and Aedan to fund him – and find him some stone to work with.

"What about Wade and Herren?"

"Yes, they're here too."

"The basement?"

"Some of the tunnels have been collapsed for years – Varel's had crews d-digging them out. They may be passable, but they aren't safe. Lost a soldier in a collapse the first time we tried to get through. Found an Avvar tomb – left it alone. Figured Arl Howe can decide what to do with that. When the digging is done, we can clear out the t-tunnels and have Voldrik fix up the Dwarven door. He confirmed he knows how."

I smiled broadly. "I'm so happy! Maybe this won't be the unmitigated disaster it could have been." I thought about all the things that could change, as things stood – Sigrun's Legion company surviving was just the beginning. I imagined thwarting the major attack on the Vigil that gave the Architect more Warden Blood, preventing the Mother's forces from destroying the city…

Thedas without Justice. Without Vengeance.

What would that even look like? Kristoff hadn't come to Ferelden, so there would be no body for the spirit to inhabit, and no reason for the Wardens to go poking around in…_what was that place called again?_ I spent a few distracted moments searching my brain for the name of the zone where Justice joined the Wardens in game, and drew a complete blank. But the Wardens would never go there, so we'd never have to see Anders being possessed, Kirkwall being blown up…

What would that mean for the mage-templar war? I couldn't even start to wonder, but just had to hope that it could only be an improvement. Surely there was some other way to handle Meredith. Maybe my warning to Greagoir would make a difference…

It certainly couldn't get any worse.

Right?

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A/N:

Alright you're going to start noticing things getting more and more off-canon from here on out, thanks to the changes Sierra has made throughout the Blight. And yes, there is a direct connection for them all - the only changes that aren't directly due to Sierra are Alistair's and Cailan's ages - because 20 just doesn't work for Sierra - and the fact that Anders and Solona knew each other - which seems totally possible even though it wasn't mentioned in game. There is some fleshing out of back stories, but nothing that directly contradicts canon or can't be explained by Sierra. If you see a change to the story and can't figure out where it came from, feel free to ask!

I suspect that updates will be moving, on a regular basis, to Tuesdays instead of Mondays. My current schedule is such that Monday nights are rushed. It might be Tuesday mornings, so it might not make that much difference to everyone, since I often posted after midnight...

A lot has been going on in real life, and I've barely gotten any writing done for the last few weeks - or possibly months. It's been really depressing. Which is to say, don't be shocked if updates slow down a bit, if this trend continues. I have lots I want to say, and I know where I'm going with the story...but getting to actually sit and do it has been...complicated.

That said, your reviews, kudos, favs and follows give me huge amounts of motivation and inspiration, so enormous thank you's to everyone who's let me know what they think!

A million thanks to my fabulous betas, Kira Tamarion and Melysande. As always, I don't own Dragon Age.

Reviews:

Reploid Avenger: Thanks! I'm not taking a rest on purpose, honest. I'm not tired of this story or experiencing writer's block. My life is just so complicated right now! No big gaps. I promise :)

Tatharien: Thanks! If I can tempt people to read even at an inconvenient time, then I know I'm doing something right ;) I'm glad you're still enjoying it!

ForgottenGrimiore: But of course! Warm fuzzies for the win. They won't last long, though, never fear ;)

Flower248: Hope the little guy is okay! Yeah, Awakenings should be...interesting. This is where things start to go seriously off-canon ;)

jamesers21: I'm sorry you don't find it believable. Part of that is in the fact that things are happening behind the scenes that Sierra doesn't know about - like Cailan meeting with and working with nobles to get agreement to the changes he's making prior to the Landsmeet. There are a number of very competent politicians in his inner circle, and in my head, wider support for some of the changes than anyone knew about. This isn't Orlais! Sierra doesn't know enough to be surprised by the general acceptance, which is why she didn't mention it. Not to mention that changes are happening in such a way that it's difficult to object - the elves being armed, for example, while outside the city was necessary for their own safety, and seems more difficult to revoke once they've moved back in. As for Sierra's role - actually, very few people know anything about it. There's a bunch of speculation about her as a Cousland and now a Theirin, but outside of the characters in the story, almost no one knows what impact she had on the Blight. Alfstanna, for example, thinks Aedan was the mastermind of everything that happened. And she may have some political power as the wife of Cailan's heir, but if anything, that pissed a lot of nobles off - it's putting a Cousland too close to the throne, and ruining an opportunity they hoped for to have their daughter become a princess. No one would speak rudely, but avoid her? Absolutely. I hope you can look past your differing opinions and enjoy what's next anyway!

Judy (Guest): Thanks!

DA186 (Guest): Welcome! I'm glad you've enjoyed it. I highly recommend replays! Thanks so much :)

5 Coloured Walker: Thanks! :) Here's hoping you mean real fun, not sarcastic 'fun'. :)

LostSpace: the templar from chapter 64? No Spoilers ;)

Turtle Burst: Welcome back! It's good to hear from you. I'm glad you could feel Wynne and Shale - it is hard to keep track with so many characters and get their personalities and voices right. Cailan's growing up! I love it. As for Maric, he did have a soft spot for the elves, but from what I've read, he didn't have 'ruling a nation' as a strong suit. He was well-loved for outing the Orlesians, but then never really accomplished much more. In my head, he taught the right morals - talked the talk, so to speak - but he had no idea where to even start at changing the nobility's minds and things. He was all 'woulda shoulda coulda' and never 'did'. As for Thomas Howe, in game it isn't said how/where he died so I assumed he was in Denerim - they did say he died during the final battle. Because the final battle didn't happen in Denerim - and there was more time between Landsmeet and final battle where he could flee from prosecution - he lived. I have plans, though it's a minor arc. By the way, I love the comments - it kills me that you're in my head sometimes, asking the things one chapter that are answered at the start of the next :) You're right about Garahel and whatnot, but when you look at more contemporary Wardens, there's been no evidence of married Wardens having their spouses around. Look at Kristoff, for example - he was stationed in Amaranthine, and his wife was in Orlais until after he died. My response to his observation, were I Aedan, would have been 'unusual times call for unusual actions.' And then point out Leli and the other companions who wee with them. As for Fergus, he was being politic, not accepting. That drama isn't over yet, have no fear :) Yep, three years! I was originally planning a novella for this. Never thought it would get anywhere near this big! And there's still so much more to go...The group did kill Flemeth. Sierra knew she'd return, but hoped she might be weaker and less likely to strike at Morrigan, because she didn't know about all the Mythal stuff at the time, and Morrigan was convinced it was necessary even though Sierra wasn't sure. Sierra stayed with Morrigan, so she didn't meet Flemeth, sadly...Awakening is going to be quite different than the game, and it only gets more off-canon from there, so I hope you enjoy the ride!

Did Inquisition change my plans? Sort of. Mostly it made me think beyond my plans. Originally the plan was for Sierra to initiate some changes through the DA2 timeline, but only to cover them in sort of epilogue form. Now I need a lot more detail, and to determine where it goes from there. I do have a lot of ideas, which I'm still in the process of sorting through and examining for major inconsistencies and things. It's going to be seriously AU, I have to say.


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